


Misplacing the Happiness Thief

by BlankPersonality



Series: Exponent 1 meets Integer 1 [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Storyshift, As in Chara is kinda whatevs about going topless in front of near-strangers, Chara's Backstory, Characters being illogical tbh, Flashbacks, Gen, Gender-Neutral Chara, Gender-Neutral Frisk, Genocide Frisk, Good Chara, Humans can do magic, I can't pun, Imagine some scenes here playing in the style of the actual game mechanics please, Lore interpretation, Lore into 'science', Major Character Injury, Medical Inaccuracies (probably), Mild Gore, Minor Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Papyrus speaks in all caps, Partial Nudity, Scientist Sans, Spoilers - Undertale Genocide Route, Surreal at times
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-09
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-07-14 01:53:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 42,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7147307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlankPersonality/pseuds/BlankPersonality
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Storyshift Chara finds themself in the Canon Universe... smack dab in the middle of a Genocide Run in progress. (Meanwhile, they've never seen one before)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You're new to this world, ain't cha?

Chara groaned and looked around as they tried to scramble back their bearings. The air was stale but tasted vaguely of metals, thick with chilled dust. Their name was Chara, Chara the... Human. They lived in Snowdin Town with their brother Asriel, and before they had blacked out and woke up here, they were...

They were...

Chara stood, one hand on the long bench table that sat beside them to anchor their balance, and drew their trademark green jacket tighter around themself. It was cold. A cold that felt familiar and foreign at the same time. They exhaled and watched as their breath condensed into mist in front of them.

The room they were in was small, more or less a third of the dusty space altogether taken up by a weird machine that didn't look like it would be turning on again any time soon. Chara noted down the fact that they woke up in front of it, at the foot of what looked like a small alcove made into the metallic, wiry-strewn mess. It was the only thing they could see that wasn’t completely covered in dust. Chara didn't know what to make of it. Their eyebrows knitted together in distress.

A long, low and very bare science bench (Chara recognised one when they see it from their fair share of sneaking into Dad's lab) ran the distance of the narrow rectangular room. There were drawers, and out of habit Chara budged them open with small grunts of effort. What they found inside did nothing but make them more and more confused.

They knew the Underground had a strange way of crowning their king and deciding whether someone should stay in power but...

So King Sans used to be a scientist, huh? Chara thought about their own father becoming king and gave a small laugh at the thought. Dad wouldn't be able to pass laws and make hard choices like King Sans did. What a ridiculous thought. No way.

Which begs the question, where were they?

There was a door to the side of the room. Chara took a step towards it and hesitated, hand hovering over the doorknob. From under it, shone soft bluish light, diluted and sleepy. Just like... Home.

Possibilities started running through their head, ranging from hopeful to downright horrifying. Chara had no recollection of anything before they woke up here, apart from waking up that morning and doing the ol' routine. Anything could've happened between then and now. 

Maybe King Sans had found them to be too dangerous to allow anymore and had captured them, and was just keeping them alive for now because Mum wouldn't allow him to kill them for their SOUL just yet. (Was his idea of a prison a lab storage area? A more coherent voice chimed from the back of Chara's head) Maybe they had been kidnapped (But the doorknob turned beautifully under the pressure of their hand). Maybe, just maybe... Asriel had decided to plan a party for them with the rest of Snowdin and didn't want Chara to see before it was finished (But it wasn't any time near their fallday).

Maybe a battle was waiting on the other side of this door.

They took their hand off the slightly rusted handle and strangled out something between a sigh and a groan, zipping up their jacket to keep slowly numbing fingers busy. It felt colder than usual, and that didn't make sense because Snowdin, where they lived for almost two years now, was the coldest place in all of the Underground, with consistent snowfall and the occasional baby blizzard. And yet this chill was seeping in through their admittedly thin jacket, creeping up on the back of Chara's neck and making the hairs on their body prickle and stand up on end. It was unlike anything they’d ever felt before. But what place could be colder than Snowdin?

They couldn't stay there forever. There were no winds but the room's darkness acted like a freezer and sooner or later Chara would need to move.

So they shoved their right hand into their pocket, biting out regret about not having brought gloves with them that morning, bravely pushed open the door with more strength than they should've, and tumbled unceremoniously onto some snow.

It was the back of their house.

The little wooden cabin in Snowdin where they and Asriel spent every morning and night in, and every midday and afternoon wordlessly avoiding. The one they shared for their training. The house that was without Mum's homely cooking and without Dad's gardening. The house that was not their home.

Yeah, except that house didn't have a back storage room.

There were other differences too. Differences that were not so glaring, and probably wouldn’t have been noticed if Chara hadn’t been delaying their progress for as long as possible. Like the fact that the pine tree they had carved their initials into had completely healed over, or that the wood of the log-covered exterior looked older and more worn, as if it had been lived in for much longer than just a couple of years. The multicoloured flowers along the landing were gone and replaced with some green vines and tiny yellow blossoms. A scorch mark marred the space beside the strange back door they just came out of.

Chara inched along the length of the bac walkway at a snail’s pace, taking in every little thing in their line of sight as if it was all new. They stared at the Snowdin Town before them, eyes wide and uncomprehending. 

It was Snowdin… and Snowdin had turned into a ghost town.

In broad daylight, at least some townies should’ve been out and about. Snowdin was a small village-like establishment alright, but usually lots of the inhabitants liked to dawdle outside, making it at least seem lively and tight-knit.

Suddenly it struck them. The reason it felt colder than usual, why their lips were already going blue even though it’s been less than five minutes standing outside when Chara clearly remembered once falling a asleep with Asriel outside in a pile of snow after building snow figures. 

Mum's magic -- the soft flames that kept both them and Asiel warm without heavy snow-proof clothing hindering their movements -- was gone.

Chara took a deep breath and grunted as they circled their palms out, then together, creating a small red fireball that floated in front of their chest like a candle without a wick. Their hands shook as they carefully pressed the flame inside their shirt, where it melted into their skin as seamlessly as if it wasn't even there. 

Face scrunched in concentration, it was all they could do to keep their hiss and growls of pain from mounting in volume. When Chara peeked under their collar, the pale skin over their heart was red and raw, but at least now they were less likely to keel over from hypothermia.

"Asriel was always better than me at this..." Chara whispered to themself quietly, taking a deep shuddering breath. More than the physical cold, barely repressed panic chilled the back of their neck like a bucket of iced water. The short-term problem was gone now, but there was still the lingering feeling of wrongness permeating the air. 

Now that that was over, the first human continued on their mindless wander around Snowdin. Eerie, empty Snowdin.

Right, this was just like one of those mornings when Chara would wake up feeling weirdly depressed. All they wanted now -- all they needed now -- was to reaffirm to themself that Asriel was fine, and then they could go back and ask Mum about King Sans’ secret history later. Because as long as their family was fine, Chara’s world would continue to spin.

They saw the Mirror first.

Frisk was standing right at the very west side of Snowdin, quiet as always. All Chara could see of them was their stripe-clad back.

"HUMAN!" a strange, tall skeleton spoke from far away, just on the other side of the small plateau separating the winter wonderland from Waterfall. He was dressed in a weird outfit, as if to him everyday was Halloween and dressing up as his favourite comicbook character was cool. Chara supposed it was. The wind blew cold and white, making his tattered red scarf billow behind him like a cape. "I BELIEVE IN YOU! PLEASE! I KNOW ANYONE CAN BE A GOOD PERSON IF THEY JUST TRY!"

Chara thought long and hard and came to the conclusion that no, they did not know this person. They recognised the voice but... That monster was far calmer, more jaded and... Did not act like Asriel.

Frisk took a step forward, cutting off further thoughts.

"Mirror?" Chara called, usually laid-back tone now sprinkled with an edge of wariness to it. Today had been a long day. "Mirror, are you done having that 'date' with Asriel already?"

They snorted at their own words, trying hard to ignore the itching fear gripping their spine. 

Frisk didn't seem to hear them. The other monster, however, took notice.

"HMM?" he said, bending his spine as he peered over Frisk's shoulder to look at them. He looked confused.

Chara returned the sentiment. "You know, you really remind me of a voice that I know."

Frisk stepped forward, towards the scarf-wearing skeleton. Without really thinking about it, Chara followed them, keeping the space between them the same.

"TWO... TWO HUMANS IN ONE DAY?" Even from a distance, Chara could see the skeleton’s eyes dart off to the side as he spoke some semblance of a murmur, “(I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR SO LONG WITH ABSOLUTELY NOTHING AND NOW…??!!)”

Frisk took another step. Only now did Chara noticed the strange way they lumbered forward, with their toes unsteadily pointing together as if Frisk hadn't exactly learnt how to walk properly yet. Chara plastered on an easy-going smile on their face and approached the other human, at the same time getting closer to the skeleton so they didn't have to shout as much.

"That's us. What? Are you a tourist? My name's Chara and this is my pretty mirror image, Frisk," Chara slung an arm around Frisk's sweater-clad shoulder. Frisk tensed the moment Chara started speaking, but did not meet their eyes. They were acting weirdly. Chara resolved to ask them about how they were doing later. For now, they winked at the skeleton. “If you're new around here, I can help you learn the ropes pretty quick."

He blushed heavily, looking furious. At who, though, Chara couldn't quite tell. 

"NO, I AM NOT A TOURIST," he announced. "IT IS YOU WHO MUST LEARN HOW THINGS ARE RUN DOWN HERE! YOU ARE A HUMAN, AND SO... I... I..."

He looked confused, yet again. 

"YOU, DEAR FIRST HUMAN," Chara pointed at themself and mouthed Me? The skeleton shook his head. "I, DESPITE MY DUTIES, WAS ABOUT TO GIVE YOU MERCY."

His eyes looked down, his teeth rattling. He looked torn, and though Chara barely knew this monster, they did feel sorry for him. It was obvious that he must be someone working for King Sans. His big heart was getting in the way of his duties. 

And yet, despite Chara’s doubts that anything was actually going to happen, the fight began.

It went Frisk, the monster, Chara. They never seriously took their turn though. Whenever it came up, Chara would shrug and turn up their hands and go,”Eh, not feeling up to it. You go first, mirror.”

Which would for some reason anger the skeleton.

Chara did little more than watch, occasionally making comments about how aggressive Frisk was being. Really, it did no good in the fight. They should realise as much as well since unlike the monster, Chara knew Frisk at least had some capacity for good reason, and particularly noticing that their fight was going nowhere.

Every time that skeleton would get close to seriously injuring Frisk, he’d stop himself so Chara didn’t have to. Every time Frisk swung their toy knife around, Chara would stop them from landing a fatal hit. Very, very subtly, of course.

They’ve just fallen down, the first human reluctantly gave them the benefit of the doubt. They must not know how monsters work; how fragile they really are.

“Hey mirror,” Chara called out, the weight in their stomach feeling heavier and heavier with every swing they had to block or redirect with distant flashes of red magic. “Why don’t we all give this a rest, eh?”

No response.

“Careful with that thing. Even though you think it’s just a toy, you might seriously hurt someone there.” Chara left their hands in their pockets; seemed like Frisk knew what they were doing with those bone attacks. But then Frisk’s turn came up and the need to intervene came back. Chara’s eyes flashed crimson as they took control of the monster’s SOUL and floated him out of harm’s way.

He finally seemed to notice. “H-HEY!” he shouted so loudly that it made Chara jump. 

The green jacket-clad human quickly let go of their stance and looked away, whistling innocently. 

“YOU! OTHER HUMAN! STOP THAT!”

And Chara just looked at him and kind of went, “...N-uw.”

The monster stomped their foot on the snow, so very much like Asriel. Chara had to shake their head to neutralise their expression again.

“the kid’s got a point, bro. well, the other kid’s got one too but, you know.”

Their smile melted faster than a snow decahedron in Hotland. Chara felt their heart sink lower than the soles of their feet.

“K-King Sans!” they stammered uncharacteristically, whirling around to properly greet (and possibly assess) the Monster King. 

Chara had never seen the King up close before. Toriel had never let them in fear he would do something rash. But… They didn’t remember anyone saying Sans had a thing for hooded jackets too. In the past, they would’ve stored the information as a possible common ground. They tried to imagine how that conversation would go. It didn’t seem very fun.

“king, huh?” The lights in Sans’ eye sockets flickered to the side. He looked… wary.

They could feel eyes on the back of their head, but that was nothing compared to the impending weight of Sans’ first impression of them. This skeleton must be a captain they had never heard of before. Someone close to Sans -- someone close enough to be called a ‘bro’ by him. Did they do the right thing in interfering with their battle, or did Sans arrange it on purpose to train the tall skeleton and Chara had just completely ruined their spar?

“that’s… weird, kid. you must be making a royal mistake there.”

Huh. They didn’t recall anyone saying he had a thing for jokes either.

Laughing weakly, Chara peeked into the state of Frisk’s SOUL to make sure the toy knife-wielding human couldn’t attack while they were distracted. It was right where they last saw it. Good. Frisk struggled to regain their breath, meeting Chara’s wary yet taunting gaze with their own half-lidded, blood-coloured eyes --

Chara froze, eyes widening. But Sans was in their line of sight now, hiding Frisk from view.

“aw c’mon. not a fan of puns?” he asked, looking genuinely interested.

“...I’m more of a puzzle person.”

“PUZZLES?” the tall skeleton stalked forward and grabbed their hand in one big red glove, like an oven mitt, and suddenly Chara was confronted with the sight of a brightly grinning skeleton. His eyes even sparkled -- like Asriel’s did when he got excited, a small voice chirped from Chara’s head. For an unexplained reason, a pang of sadness hit them like a firetruck, as if remembering a goodbye. Chara couldn’t think of why. “ARE YOU A FELLOW PUZZLE LOVER?”

Chara shook the emotion away and smiled lazily at him. “You bet I am.”

“WOWIE! I MUST SHOW YOU OUR HUMAN-PROOF PUZZLES SOMETIME! THEN, YOU WILL BE AMAZED AT MY PUZZLE-MAKING ABILITIES!”

“i don’t know about that, bro. if that human came from the ruins then this human must’ve as well. they might’ve already done all our puzzles just to be here and see you,” Sans winked. Chara stared at him weirdly. This wasn’t the fearsome, merciless King Mum had led them to believe in. “that reminds me, kid. i’m a sentry in that area. how’d you walk past without me seeing you? ...unless you didn’t come from the ruins at all.”

“DON’T BE SILLY, SANS,” once again, the taller skeleton’s voice made them jump in surprise. “YOU WERE PROBABLY SLEEPING WHEN THEY MADE THEIR WAY TO SNOWDIN. OH! THAT WOULD MEAN… HUMAN! FORGIVE ME! YOU HAVE BEEN SO NICE AS TO GIVE ME YOUR NAME THAT I FORGOT TO GIVE YOU MINE! I AM THE GREAT, THE MAGNIFICENT, PAPYRUS! NICE TO MEET YOU.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Chara winked, then realised what they did and a deep dusting of red bloomed across their cheeks. “I did it again,” they muttered while Sans merely grinned, walking around them to stand next to a blushing Papyrus and nudge his humerus with an elbow.

“oh my god that’s cute.”

“HUMAN! DID YOU JUST...”

Sans just cracked up even more. 

“Your highness, with all due respect, please shut up.”

And then, disorientingly, the moment of goodwill was gone.

Chara couldn’t exactly pinpoint the feeling. It wasn’t like if they were suddenly moving without their consent, because they weren’t. The first human knew what they were doing and knew they had to stop.

But the pull was unmistakable.

The world had slowed itself down to a third of its speed. Chara felt their magic flare up, eyes alighting as they suddenly found themself floating, the soles of their boots three feet off the ground, with no visible means of support. Papyrus was at their back, Sans somewhere to their seven o’clock and from the corner of their eyes Chara could see flashes of glowing blue activating in his right eye socket --

It was surreal because Chara hadn’t been completely joking about the uncanny resemblance between them and Frisk. Apart from the color of their skin, hair and eyes, looking at Frisk was almost like looking at a mirror image. But there were differences, for sure; so why, in that split-second stillness -- 

was Chara completely convinced they were looking at themself?

\--

The tip of the knife slashed a neat line across their chest.

They fell unceremoniously into an ungraceful heap in the snow, splattering red all over the beaten-up path. Their ears rang. It drowned out the world.

Someone yelled and Chara was vaguely aware of the other human’s soul turning blue and slamming against the ground, about twenty feet away. They couldn’t move from there.

Lips drawn into an empty smile, there were ominous shadows under Chara’s eyes when they looked up from clutching at their wound, panting. Shudders of pain wracked through their entire body. All hope gone from their eyes. Chara knew what was in that dagger. They had felt it before. It was Hatred, and it hurt.

“Wow…” They swallowed thickly, and grinned. Cold started seeping into their skin now that the magic maintaining their body temperature had been drained off for the teleportation spell. “You’re… Really different from my Frisk, aren’t ya?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chara got cut the same Sans did -- diagonally across the chest. The only difference? Papyrus here is still alive.
> 
> Note: NOT A SHIP. I REPEAT. NOT A SHIP. DO NOT JUMP ON IT PLEASE. (but if you want to i guess that's fine just know that i didn't write chara x papyrus on purpose)


	2. you're a human, right?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Human-skele bonding.

“papyrus, go get the kid inside and take care of ‘em,” Sans said, voice not any different than usual, but somehow Chara thought vaguely that he sounded more like the Sans they had heard about in folktale and bedtime stories meant to scare them into staying away from New Home. “i’ll make sure this one’s all snowdin in the comfiest ribcage i know how to make. it wouldn’t be very humerus if they would be able to get out and make their point about some dunkage. it wouldn’t be very knife, spaghet what I mean?”

A moment of silence. Through the haze of pain and shock and the last fading traces of adrenaline, Chara could barely remember to be exasperated at the puns. Thankfully, they didn't need to be; Papyrus was annoyed enough for the both of them.

“...SANS, I WOULD’VE HURRIED ANYWAY WITHOUT YOU CHASING ME OFF WITH PUNS.” Chara grunted as they felt themself being gathered into big red gloves. Papyrus was big enough to lift the injured human comfortably in the crook of one arm. Vision blurry, they faintly saw their blood flowing off in tiny rivulets to make growing stains on the tall skeleton’s previously pristine white shirt, and mumbled a small apology. Their head was starting to hurt. Chara couldn’t muster up enough energy to properly glare at Frisk so instead they stared at each other, with twenty feet’s worth of distance between them.

Sans chuckled darkly. He wouldn’t let his eye sockets stray from his opponent.

\--

The fight against the kid was surprisingly easy. They looked preoccupied at something the entire time and sometimes even seemed like they weren’t even _trying_ to dodge. Maybe they didn’t think taking a few hits was too important. Most of the time they did kill Monsters before they could even get in their first attack, after all. 

This is fortunate. With his first barrage of blasters and bones, the killer was already down to only one health point.

They growled, sprawled out in the red-stained snow. Their left arm had been caught dead-center in a double blast and was now nothing much more than a charred stump at the side of their torso. Their right knee had a femur through it, pinning it to the ground, and the other leg was cut open so badly it shouldn’t even be moving, but that didn’t stop them from violently, self-destructively struggling like a frenzied beast. Their right hand still held the toy knife up like they could reach him from their place on the ground. The spot of red snow under them was growing bigger by the second.

Sans panted as he rocked on the balls of his feet, apprehensive. He thought he should try to talk… but there was nothing to say. 

The demon couldn’t even move to heal. 

A few more seconds passed in heavy breathing and empty, wordless threats. 

…

The battle was over. 

\--

“that was quick,” Sans commented dryly, beads of sweat rolling down his skull. His grin was wide but weary. “i got a ton more attacks where that came from. a skele _ton_.”

No reaction.

He slowly trudged his way towards the kid, dragging slipper-ed feet across the snow with loud, periodic crunching sounds. The twenty-one-feet gap between them eventually closed.

“you know, i mean it. don’t reload, cause I've got no qualms about working myself down to the _bone_ making sure you don’t continue this massacre of yours.”

The human lied still, for now, face grumpily squished against the ice crystals on the ground. Their skin was scratched up so much it looked like it had gone into a cage fight with a feral cat -- and they didn’t seem to care.

“...what? i guess you can’t reload unless you die?” Sans asked, at first uncertainly but ending in a mock-teasing tone; in truth he was mentally noting the potentially useful information down for future use. Left eye never stopped blazing with energy, it flickered yellow now as he raised his hand and the demon rose to the air, their Soul being a very decisive blue in colour. “that’s cool. i’m not planning on letting you free any time soon anyways.”

He walked with them floating and tumbling through the air above him like a bizarre, string-less balloon. The atmosphere was almost pleasant, depending on whom you asked. Sans could’ve whistled and it wouldn't have been too out of place.

He walked inside the shed Papyrus had turned into a 'prison’ and maybe banged the demon’s head against the top of the door frame on purpose. They snarled, spinning a bit. Sans threw them through the wide bars, completely uncaring that their body just snapped a wooden plank clean in half. 

The kid immediately tried to crawl out through the blockade, once again active without bones stabbing through their appendages to pin them to the floor . 

With some semblance of a smirk that didn’t reach his eye sockets, Sans lifted a knee, casually stomped on the floor as if it was part of his everyday routine, and immediately cyan-coloured bones protruded diagonally out of the floor boards and joined themselves to the ceiling all in a row, effectively making the gaps between the bars small enough to be serious. The broken wooden bar righted itself and was reinforced with blue magic as well, along with the rest. Humeri barred off the windows too.

Sans stepped towards the heavily panting demon. They appeared to be finally all tuckered out from give or take five minutes of nonstop thrashing. Finally, he allowed his left eye to extinguish. 

“...there,” he said, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “welp. i’m going to grillby’s.”

He was lying, but why bother telling the truth when it didn’t need to be made more obvious than it already was? Sans turned on his heels and made as if to simply walk out the door.

But then behind him, the demon _laughed_.

A wet chuckle that eventually turned into a low chortle then into a full-blown cackle. The sound reverberated around the small room and sent unnerved shivers down Sans’ spine. The sound, lasting way too long, could’ve been a mystical spell for all he cared. 

All he knew was, he couldn’t make his feet budge another inch further until the sound _stopped_.

But then they started talking, and somehow that was a thousand times worse.

“ _They sure popped out of nowhere, huh?_ ” they spoke, stopped to spit out a mouthful of saliva and blood, then said, like they were all buddy-buddy, “ _Who do you think they are, Sans?_ ”

The short skeleton went rigid.

“ _You think you can trust a demon? You can’t be sure what they are… You know what they can do, don’t you?_ ”

“shut up,” Sans blurted out. To cover his mistake, he took out his phone and dialed the emergency number, trying hard to ignore his shaking hands. 

*(In the distance, a cheery dogtune played, faintly getting louder and louder)

“ _And yet you still leave them alone with your own brother…_ ” their voice dripped with pure, unadulterated glee. “ _Even knowing that they’re **me**?_ ”

A few seconds of nothing. Absolutely no reaction. Chara was almost ready to feel disappointed. 

Then the room blacked out. 

When they came to, Sans was gone. 

\--

**CHARA LV 8 339:25**  
**Snowdin -- Tool Shed**  
**File saved.**

**HP fully restored.**

\--

True to his word, Papyrus speed-walked away from the two, Chara in his arms. But, surprisingly, they didn’t walk very far. They didn’t go into the Nice Cream parlour, where Chara would’ve guessed to get top-notch monster food in Snowdin. No, instead, they took an immediate right and went to… 

Their… House?

It was different inside, that was for sure. Papyrus deposited them on the couch, which still jangled with loose gold pieces like usual, and the warmth of the place seeping back into their bones gave Chara enough strength to push themself up into a sitting position, despite the worrying spurts of blood. 

Immediately they noticed the subtle, yet somehow glaring differences. 

Instead of the painting of golden flowers in the upstairs hallway, Chara could see a framed picture of a bone instead. The table beside the door was there but on it was a rock on a plate instead of the Dreemur family picture. 

Dismay and distress clawed at their mind. The shock and fear doused them in freezing cold panic from head to toe. 

Papyrus came back, a big first aid kit in one hand and extra rolls of bandages in the other. He didn’t appear to have an inside voice. Chara didn’t mind though, despite the mounting headache sneaking up on them from the horizon. Asriel basically spoke the same way all the time. “HUMAN! ARE YOU READY FOR…!! UM, HUMAN??? ARE YOU OKAY?” 

“...not very,” Chara sniffed, pressing their face harder into the back of the couch that smelt like ketchup and bones instead of cookies and snow. Frustration bubbled in their blood and made the room feel too small and stuffy. They didn’t want to stay in this... _building_ anymore. 

“OH NO!!! YOU MUST BE IN _MORE_ PAIN THAN I REALISE! HOW COULD I, THE INFINITELY INTELLIGENT PAPYRUS, HAVE BEEN SO BLIND?? I APOLOGIZE FOR TAKING SO LONG, TINY HUMAN! WE SHALL WORK ON YOUR BLEEDING AT ONCE. PLEASE, FACE ME.”

Eventually, Chara did. Papyrus knelt beside the couch, the _thuds_ of his kneecaps against the carpet muffled, but the rattle of his bones, not at all. He opened the white box beside him and took out a jar of glowing green gel. Chara sulked internally that at least they recognised what that was: their least favourite kind of medicine.

“UM, I UNDERSTAND IF YOU WOULD BE UNCOMFORTABLE TAKING OFF YOUR JACKET AND UNDERSHIRT IN FRONT OF ME. THIS IS HEALING MAGIC. IT… MIGHT STING. YOU CAN PUT IT ON YOURSELF IF YOU WANT.”

Chara noticed how Papyrus’ eyes kept flickering over to the window, but the heavy mist surrounding the path didn’t let anything but faint flashes of blue be seen of the human and Sans. Their eyes softened at the thought of somebody being genuinely worried for the lonely skeleton king ( _If he was even the king…?_ ). “Little chance of that, I’m afraid," Chara said sheepishly, ducking their head. _I'm being a bother, aren't I...?_

Without further preamble, Papyrus lathered on a generous layer of the magic goo onto a length of gauze and set it down to set before he helped take off their slightly shredded hoodie and shirt, wordlessly understanding the need to keep their arms as still as possible as to not pull on the gash. 

As he moved, he talked.

“OTHER HUMAN… I MUST SAY, YOU ARE VERY KIND TO HAVE… PROTECTED ME LIKE THAT. I AM NOT BLIND. I UNDERSTOOD THE DANGER OF CONFRONTING THAT… I MEAN, THE OTHER HUMAN.” 

A bowl of lukewarm water they had previously not seen before was on the floor, wafts of steam faintly dancing low across its surface as a result of the house’s dampened cold. Papyrus held out a clean rag for Chara to take, but keeping their eyes open was already proving to be more and more of a chore with every passing second, so they declined. Chara tiredly nodded their consent before they slumped their shoulders against the couch to the sound of the skeleton wringing out the soaked cloth. The air was filled with the soft clacks of bone against bone. 

“WHEN YOU AND SANS ARRIVED I WAS SURPRISED, BUT RELIEVED. I THOUGHT WITH MY BROTHER’S COOLNESS COMBINED WITH MY OWN, AND THE PRESENCE OF ONE OF THEIR KIND BY THEIR SIDE, WE COULD CALM THE HUMAN DOWN ENOUGH TO CONVINCE THEM TO STOP HURTING OTHERS!”

Here his eyes lowered and dimmed. 

“BUT I WAS WRONG.”

The long, straight wound groggily oozed ruby-coloured blood, dried dark brown smears already encrusting the skin around it. Papyrus blanched but was otherwise professional as he gently cleaned the angrily bruised skin, revealing more of the blotchy pale cream complexion that came with all the years living in the Underground. He had paused at what they dubbed as the of the aftermath of ‘Chara’s Attempt at Not Freezing to Death’ but did not comment further.

Chara twitched and winced a few times, but otherwise tried their best to appear to be handling fine. Already, a flash of hot guilt had struck them upon realising that their blood would probably be in the couch forever now, staining the green knitted fabric until the end of time. 

“SO, THANK YOU. AFTER THIS, WE WILL _HAVE_ TO BE FRIENDS!”

The two exchanged weak and shaky smiles, respectively, before Papyrus proceeded to carefully plaster on the gauze along the cut. After making sure the placement was perfect, he wound it many more times around their torso to help keep it in place. 

Lifting their arms for the bandage, stung. Feeling the healing magic salve work its way into their flesh none-all-too-gently , _hurt_ ; but somehow they managed to keep from making their discomfort audible. The human closed their eyes, muscle tensed. The entire area above their heart and lungs felt like they were on fire.

“THERE. YOU ARE ALL PATCHED UP, HUMAN!”

Chara swallowed their grimace and tried to muster up enough energy to meet Papyrus’ innocent glee. “All thanks to you.”

“OF COURSE! I WOULD HAVE TO HAVE BECOME AN EXPERT AFTER LIVING WITH SANS FOR SO LONG!”

Chara relaxed against the cushions again as they tried hard to ignore the urge to fight against the green magic that was meant to help them. Bit by bit, they let themself melt into the scratchy plush surface. Today had been a long day. They yawned, asking absentmindedly, “Why, what about him?”

Papyrus had one glove-less hand on his lower jaw, an increasingly troubled look on his face. Drops of sweat started dotting his forehead. Chara was suddenly very aware that this Monster that they had literally never set eyes on before today had left the King on his own to fight an obviously angry, armed and dangerous human for the sake of keeping Chara, yet another human, alive and kicking. If they had any less qualms about moving at that moment, Chara would’ve slapped themself at the lack of tact.

Then the door slammed open, saving them both from inevitable awkwardness.

“papyrus!?” Sans stood in the doorway, somehow managing to look worried without brows or full mobility of his jaw. His left eye socket was blazing with magic, but a few seconds of staring at the taller skeleton (Now that Chara thought about it, they might be related) calmed the blue circle back into a normal white dot. He relaxed his stance. “...’m home.”

“SANS OH THANK ASGORE.”

Chara jumped so violently at the sound of their father’s name that they surprised even themself, then hissed faintly in pain when the sting from the friction settled in tenfold.

Sans’ arrival quickly took their mind off of the discomfort, though. He looked no worse for wear, except for a few scuffs on his slippers and his clothes being more rumpled than they were the last time they saw each other. He was grinning, like he always did, but there was something on his skull that screamed somehow both suspicion and skepticism. At them. Chara leveled their own questioning gaze at the blue-clad skeleton.

An eternity passed with the both of them locking eyes. It was equivalent to a silent conversation, with no words exchanged.

The spell broke when Papyrus got close enough to sweep Sans into a bear hug that literally took him off his feet. Sans laughed and even Chara broke out a smile at the infectious feeling of bone-deep relief Papyrus was obviously feeling, so much so that there were tears in his eyes.

“I THOUGHT -- I WORRIED -- SOMMUCH --”

“oh c’mon bro, you know you were needed elsewhere; couldn’t be helped.” Chara had no idea what the look Sans was shooting them was supposed to mean. “either way, a little demon like that was snow problem for me.”

Chara wondered if Sans blurted out more puns when he was nervous.

Papyrus, meanwhile, was not impressed. “SANS, YOU DO NOT GET TO RUIN THIS MOMENT FOR ME.” 

Despite the deadpan of his words however, Papyrus set him down. The taller skeleton brother huffed, gloved hands on the sides of his pelvis. He looked at the door as if he could see right through it. “THE HUMAN?”

“in the shed. I stationed the gauntlet in there with them just in case.”

“EVEN THE DOG?”

“especially the dog.” Chara couldn’t see Papyrus’ face from where they sat but they thought they saw him relax just a tad bit. 

“...ALRIGHT. NO CHECKING UP ON THEM ALONE. FROM NOW ON, WE MUST STAY TOGETHER AT ALL TIMES.” He turned around, looking at Chara with an unreadable expression. When he spoke it was hard to determine who he was speaking to. “I WILL BE IN THE KITCHEN IF YOU NEED ME.”

“ok.”

Papyrus walked out of sight. 

\--

Sans took his time locking the front door, keeping his back to Chara for longer than what was necessary. He was either moving really slowly or time was slowing down again, like before. Chara vaguely hoped this didn’t mean they would get attacked again; they weren’t sure if they would be able to escape with their magic now almost running on empty. Adrenaline had left their system ages ago, and even with the fear they felt of Sans, they could already feel the oncoming crash tugging at their eyelids. 

Sans turned around and walked, hands casually hanging from his pockets as if to mock Chara’s favourite pose. His dirty pink bath slippers didn’t stop him from looking any less ominous than if he was approaching them in full royal robes. 

The monster who they once knew to be king sat on the couch beside them. 

“i’ve heard a few interesting things about you, kid,” Sans started. Chara looked at him in unclear surprise, eyes half-lidded despite their best efforts to remain awake. “some from sources i can trust, some from sources i _thought_ i could trust, and some from your, uh, ‘mirror image’ over there.”

Chara thought they should talk. Say something. ‘What is it?’ ‘Will you listen to them?’ 'I didn’t do anything wrong.’

But their mouth was glued shut.

“i’d lay them all down now but since i can see you’re just about ready to collapse from exhaustion, we’ll talk later,alright?” Sans peered at them from the corner of his eye sockets. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking… but he was grinning, at least. “i bet i’ll have some _knock-out_ jokes for you then.”

Chara was barely listening. They had let their eyes drop, the warmth of the house and the couch on their back soothing their sores away like a giant compress. 

“but uh, for now, i guess i’ll just say what i need ta,” the sides of his eye sockets narrowed merrily at them, which Chara didn’t even know was possible (don’t blame them; none of their friends had ever been skeletons). It seemed that death by Sans wouldn't come any time soon. “...thanks, kid.”

And since he basically just gave them permission to crash on his couch, when Sans looked over at the human again, they were already snoring.

\-- 

Chara woke up to a the smell of bones, freshly-laundered sheets and the salve lathered against their chest, now more sweet-smelling than before. They didn’t remember having gone horizontal on the couch before they nodded off, and somehow they found a thick red duvet had been tucked over them to make it impossible for them to fall off the couch in their sleep. 

The soles of their feet were comfortably pressed against Sans, who sat with one arm over the back of the couch and the other holding a remote control. The room was dark, the only source of light being a dim red and green glow from the windows outside and the muted television. His hoodie was off, on the table not too far away. Chara couldn’t tell which was weirder -- the fact that he was in nothing but a T-shirt and shorts now or the fact that he was awake. The Skeleton King did, after all, have quite a reputation for being lazy.

“we’ve got a lot to talk about, kid,” he said without taking his eyes off the television screen.

The million and one questions that had been bouncing and rebounding through their skull for all of the last eight or so hours had disappeared with their sleep. Chara had no idea where to even begin.

“not much of a talker now, are you? that’s fine. i guess i’ll start then.

The lights in his eye sockets dimmed. Chara got the impression this was how he portrayed seriousness and thanked Angel they never had to see it on his face back when they still knew him as the King of All Monsters. 

“have you ever heard of alternate universes?”

There was a choice here, plain and simple. Chara remembered Dad saying something like it before and decided to be honest. They nodded.

“good. this’ll be easier to explain, then." A pause. Chara had to squint to be able to see Sans’ eye-lights in the glare of the television. He was looking off to the side, as if searching for the right words. “i’ve been warned that something big, something that would, in all sense of the word, mess with the timelines, was going to arrive today. i had no idea what, or why, or even, apparently, how many. i thought at first when that human came trailing dust behind them, that they were it… but then you came a few hours later.”

Chara swallowed the lump in their throat and, despite the crick in their neck, forced themself to look at the television instead of straight at Sans. They couldn’t trust themself not to have their eyes glowing. “Did they -- the demon -- tell you…”

Silence, for about ten counts or so. Chara could tell Sans was politely waiting for them to finish, but the words just wouldn’t come to them. Eventually they shook their head. 

“...would you believe me if i said this wasn’t the first time i’ve seen them? or you, for that matter. i don’t remember it all, but… i’ve heard stories. i’ve seen tapes. and honestly, kid, i think this is the first time i’ve locked eyes with you without having a knife coming for my core. you’re a version of you that’s so different from the others, i don’t even think you’re all figured out yet. not that i’m not glad you’re _you_. some of them have their reasons, but most of the Charas out there are pretty same old, same old, whether they like to fight or not. angry, cynical, pained balls of hatred doused in tragedy. even this one…” He looked off to the side again, eye sockets narrowing as if they were acting as replacement for eyelids. “sorry. i must not be making much sense right now… but truthfully, neither is your existence. you’re an anomaly, kid. your universe, if it even exists like you act like it does, is just one big anomaly.”

A pregnant pause. “sorry. that was rude.”

For a few seconds that lasted an eternity, they breathed, a lull in the atmosphere. Chara focused on inhaling, exhaling. " _A_ Chara, huh?" they muttered, voice small.

Their head pounded from the blood loss, and Chara was sure if they opened their eyes right then, their vision would swim, but they didn't care. As unreasonable as it was, they wanted to wake up and be told that this was all just a bad dream, and find their house back to normal, with the green floors and the blue kitchen and the smell of sweets permanently in the air. They wanted a hug from Mum and Dad and to be told how much they were loved.

They just wanted to see their brother Asriel, one more time.

When he finally continued the conversation, Sans’ voice was so soft it was only just audible in the near-oppressive silence.

“kid… do you know where you are?”

Chara had an inkling. But they didn’t want to say it. Silent tracks of moisture ran down their red-tinged cheeks, hopefully well hidden in the darkness. They didn’t move to wipe them in case Sans noticed. Eventually they said, bravely, “A long way from home.”

“yeah,” Sans looked to agree with their answer. “yeah, you are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...Not gonna lie, I had a little trouble with the flow of dialogue. Just in general. Do me a favour and try reading the lines out loud if they sound weird being read through quickly in your head, okay?
> 
> \--
> 
> Non-professional stuff: WOWIE was the response for this great! This is my first time posting here too so I had been sure this story would fade into obscurity... But you're all wonderful! 
> 
> Cyrus67, Linkthetoa, thank you for the support! I have an idea of where I want this to go so hopefully I'll be able to go through with the story I have in mind.
> 
> thesilentspy, wow I don't deserve that much praise, haha! Thank you so much. I do sense drama in the distance... 
> 
> goodygoody19, it's a thing now! Truthfully though, I should probably say that I got the idea from an obscure shamchat tumblr post I saw long ago... somewhere. Or maybe I saw it in a dreeeeaam
> 
> Menoshe, I totally agree! Looking back, I can see the beginning (which I completely forgot about posting this) is a bit sloppy, and it's because I started this as just a bored little thing... which quickly grew into a bored BIG thing. Now that I'm into writing this seriously though, I promise you I'll set SS!Chara pre-swap premise in the later chapters (whenever I see an opportunity to).  
> Also, regarding your other comment, ('heh...'s sheepishly) I obsess over some of my posted things sometimes and this week I might've actually... done... some minor, miiinor changes to chapter 1, which might be why you got those notifications. I'm really sorry! I wasn't aware that actually happens (first time on AO3 here). I'll try being more considerate from now on, hehe.
> 
> XxBulletofRomexX, oh Chara is NOT taking ANY of Geno!Frisk's shizz!


	3. Golly, you must be so confused!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which literally zero clarifications are made.

“but hey,” Sans got off the couch and walked over to where Chara thought they could see a light switch. This gave them just enough time to wipe at their face with his back turned. Their cheeks, nose and eyelids still felt a little warm, but at least they were dry. “lighten up, kiddo. everyone you know back in your universe is here. just… a bit different.”

A pause. Sans turned his head and grimaced slightly when the human couldn’t see his face. If the insane, meticulous-killer ghost human child in this world is translated to the nice, lazy _alive_ human child in that world, who knows how different the others could be…?

Well, no time like the present to start finding out.

“so if i’m the king…” he started. Chara snorted, expecting the skeleton to ask something silly like how he looked in a cape or something. But instead, what he ask was far more bittersweet. “where’s pap, do you think? you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. if it’s really that bad… i’d rather stay blind, kay, kid?”

“Well, uh…” Chara swallowed thickly, racking their brain. “...You know, actually, when I first heard him, your brother reminded me of someone I know. See, there’s this door in the woods, near my sentry station in Snowdin…”

\--

Chara set down the empty plate down on their lap with a huff, breathing heavily. It felt like they had barely paused to take a breath in the time it took to get from the first mouthful to finishing the pasta.

“...wow, kid,” Sans wheezed, grin looking more genuine than usual. “good thing i made sure that spaghetti was edible before you decided to inhale it all. want some dessert?”

Chara pat their slightly bulging belly, letting out an impressive burp. “No thanks.”

Sans looked over, the lights in his eye sockets small but bright. He rested the side of his skull on his carpus, elbow on the armrest. “hah. i never thought a _you_ could be so… are you really?”

“Chara Dreemurr.” They hated the fact that the name, once a big milestone for the little family -- their little family -- now sounded so meaningless coming from their own lips. “In the flesh.”

“wow,” Sans coughed out a strained-sounding chuckle. “sorry. just. wow.”

Chara couldn’t say they blamed the skeleton for looking at them like they were a museum attraction of some kind, not when they were internally acting the exact same way. After all, it was more than just a bit weird to see the man they were told to fear their entire life, now sit beside them and tell them puns while they ate his brother’s spaghetti.

They lazed around a bit together, a comfortable silence between them. There was no reason for it -- the television was off now, the room completely silent but for the ambience per the ticking of a nearby clock slowly waiting for the morning. The lights shone tirelessly, however, which made it feel not quite as late as it was.

As if he could read their mind, Sans suddenly let out a big yawn (which was kind of weird without a moving jaw). “welp. it’s late, kid. you should turn in. healing magic can take a lot out of you, i know.” He stood, movements sluggish. “tomorrow morning we’re going to pay the demon a visit. wanna come or would you rather sleep in? i won’t blame you if you choose the latter; i sleep in all the time too. everyday, in fact.”

Chara shrugged as they slowly bent over the bunched-up ball of a quilt on their lap to place the empty plate on the floor. Sans noticed what they were doing half-way and helped. “I’ll be there.”

“alright, suit yourself.” Sans scratched somewhere between his fifth and sixth ribs through his white undershirt. He clapped his capitate bones together and the lights went out with a stuttering frizzle. Chara almost laughed because they and Asriel had a similar system installed in their house too. “i’m clocking out. g’night kid,”

Chara fake-yawned and waved at the retreating skeleton’s back. They made an effort to lie down again on the couch, careful not to let anything touch the bandages on their chest. Sans made his way up the stairs, took one last look at them as they just finished settling in over his shoulder, before his door closed behind him with a soft _click_.

A few minutes later, there was a strange scraping sound ringing throughout the room.

Chara jackknifed into a sitting position on the couch (then immediately regretted it with a hiss and a wince). The sound did not happen again for a couple of seconds, enough to make them almost think that it was their hyperactive imagination in a foreign environment.

But then it happened again, louder this time too.

Holding their breath, Chara flipped themself behind the couch and crouched there with their hand over their racing heart. Every hair on the back of their neck stood up on end. Frozen in the narrow space, head ducked down, they couldn’t tell where the sly scratching sound was coming from, only that it was going on for an absurdly long time, and getting less muffled by the second.

Finally, the sinister scraping started to be punctuated by the sound of wood creaking and splintering away. All of these were quiet enough to not possible call Papyrus or Sans down from behind closed doors but enough to fill up the room and raise goose bumps all over Chara’s skin.

Then there was a lull in the commotion.

_“…Finally, the lights are off. Now, if I was a lazy pathetic baboon of a skeleton trash-bag, where would I keep my keys…?”_

Chara placed their fingers lightly on the top of the couch’s backrest, careful to not make a sound, and peeked cautiously around the corner. They held their breath to stay quiet. Red magic surrounded their hand in case the voice noticed them and attacked. They hid their left hand behind their back, to conceal the glow. A small, relieved smile placed itself on their lips.

At least now, they knew where the intruder _was_.

“GAH! It’s not here?!”

A consolation -- the voice in question wasn't Frisk, they could tell that with relative ease. It was too loud, too high, too emotive. Based on what little they could remember of Sans trying to explain his own world, it sounded too genuinely hostile to be a Monster, either. But the shadow moving near the table beside the couch was short -- about half their height, Chara estimated -- and weirdly shaped, not humanoid at all. A big, circular top, a twisting, stem-like torso hat looked like it was coming right out of the floorboards...

In the darkness, it looked like a flower.

Chara scowled and tightened their grip on the red-hued knife that had formed in palm of their hand. They carefully stepped around the side of the fortunately short couch and started their slow approach towards the moving shadow.

It was that him alright, even though the lack of proper lighting concealed the colour of that damned flower’s petals. His voice sounded different too, but the mere prospect of him being the intruder distracted Chara enough that they didn’t particularly care either way.

“Flowey,” Chara spat, brandishing the big knife in their hand. “So even all the way in another universe, you’re still a pain in my neck, huh?”

The flower swiveled around – as best he could on a stem, that is -- a wild scowl on his gynoecium, though the expression looked rather off mixed with surprise. From the corner of their eyes, Chara could see thorny vines coming for them with the intention of ripping them apart. They widened their stance, getting ready for a battle –

but then something peculiar happened.

He looked… happy?

“So you’re out already,” he smirked gleefully, spiked vines freezing then retreating into the patch of exposed earth on the floor. “Great job, Chara. Now we can continue freeing all of these ungrateful fools!”

An inhuman laugh, one that reverberated inside their ears and etched itself deep into their brain, came out of the flower’s suddenly monstrous expression. He had grown fangs, which Chara hadn't even know was possible.

Then, before Chara could say or do anything else, he disappeared.

The human was left alone, face frozen in an expression of total confusion. Eyes squinted, left eyebrow reaching for their hairline, nose upturned in bemusement; they let their hand drop to their side. Their knife disintegrated into red dust that glittered then disappeared to thin air.

“Huh,” they huffed, blinking in surprise. “I guess it didn’t matter how I greeted him.”

They turned, as if about to go to sleep, but of course they couldn’t. Not after such an encounter.

Chara sat on the couch, hunched over, elbows on their knees. They needed to find out more about this Frisk. They needed to find out why the other human was so… murdery. And why that flower acted and sounded so different. And also, why he called them by their real name – ‘Chara’.

‘If he mistook me for the other human…’ they pondered. ‘Shouldn’t he have called me ‘Frisk’, instead?’

The questions were back. Chara took a deep breath and glanced at the clock on the wall. A few hours left until morning. They had no idea what to do.

They needed a plan.

\--  
They growled and stood up, pacing around the room again before stopping in front of the nearest  
window. If they stayed still in the same spot for too long they would sit down.

They didn’t like sitting down. It felt like giving up.

They were sure the flower would come. He had proved to be helpful thus far, they had thought he would get them out, no problem. Somehow.

The window had frosted over, stopping them from seeing anything outside. In the darkness, they couldn’t see anything – not as a mirror, not as a looking glass. The former didn’t particularly matter either way; the topic of how they looked paled in comparison to the fact that they were now visible at all.

They pulled out a cinnamon bunny and stared at it for a long time. Their stomach growled in hunger. Huh. They took a large, greedy bite of the sweet, toasted bunny's ear. They chewed grumpily.

“ **Azzy, you’re making me wait…** ” they growled, threw their new body onto the floor before getting back up again, and repeating the cycle.

\--

All was silent.

Chara took a deep breath. They closed their eyes and inhaled, exhaled. Once, twice, before getting up again with minimal wincing. The plate was floated over to their hands, partly because bending over wasn’t worth the time or effort right now and partly because Chara needed to know how much their energy levels were currently at, anyway. Their feet touched the chilly, well-vacuumed carpet.

In the dark, they could almost pretend nothing had changed. “Haha,” they muttered, eyes glowing faintly crimson as they took their time making a beeline for the kitchen. The darkness, broken only by the deceivingly familiar lights from the windows, made the journey slightly longer than it should’ve been, but not by much. Technically, it was exactly like navigating their own home...

“Thoughts like that aren’t going to help me now.”

As it turned out, the sink was too high to reach anyway, which was fine since it gave Chara an excuse to once again use their magic to make things move. There were going to be questions in the morning from the skeleton brothers, no doubt -- or maybe not considering they technically have already seen Chara use their magic earlier getting Papyrus out of the line of fire.

“Maybe they won’t mind,” they hoped idly.

Faint whistles filled the pre-dawn atmosphere as the human preheated the oven and took out a few mixing bowls. Very soon though, their initial excitement about a half-hatched plan faded with the realisation that with the implications of this not being their house… meant this being not their kitchen anymore.

Instead of flour, sugar and milk, the fridge was filled with packets of pasta, tomatoes and garlic. Where there were whisks and baking trays were now normal cooking utensils and common pots for boiling water... If they were all a bit bigger than usual.

Chara sighed and frowned, slumping their shoulders in disappointment.

And, most distressingly, there was no chocolate to be found. Anywhere.

Would the skeleton brothers mind if they went out shopping tomorrow? Back home (Chara swallowed thickly), their family had never any problems with money, both Mum and Dad being important members of the royal staff. It seemed silly to think that the King could ever be hurting for cash but…

Sans wasn’t the King now. He never was, never had been.

Their internal clock was telling them there was no point in trying to get back to sleep. Now that they were already in the kitchen, might as well.

Thankfully, it seemed like Sans and Papyrus existed on more than just pasta. They found eggs, eventually, along with a tiny bag of flour that looked like it hadn’t been touched in a while, along with some butterscotch and cinnamon… but the Dreemurr child had no use for those at the moment.

There was bread and some butter, so they made toast out of that and cooked up the eggs in the only way they knew they liked them. Chara hummed while they worked, lips now being too chapped to whistle. Everything done, they placed everything in a plate, walked back out to the living room and slipped on Sans’ jacket.

In the Underground, it didn’t become morning, exactly. There was no sun to rise and paint the skies in pinks and oranges, so magic lit up the ceiling instead. This meant that for a few minutes each day, a white winterland like Snowin would be painted in ever-changing shades of blindingly bright pastel colors, similar to the Core itself.

Chara sniffed as they waited for the lightshow to start. It did. The room lit up like a switch had been turned on, from twilight to well-illuminated in a matter of minutes. From the corner of their eyes they thought they saw a flash of yellow, too vivid and solid to be a part of the weather, but it was gone before they had time to properly register what they were looking at. Chara shook their head and dismissed their thoughts.

Shuffling over to the door, the small human plunged a hand into the left pocket of the blue hoodie and pulled out a small brass key. No doubt it would be cold outside, so Chara zipped up the blue jacket -- a little more padded than they were used to – toed on their snow boots, took a breath, and unlocked the front door with the plate of breakfast in hand.

They flinched. They waited. They stood, alive.

The human exhaled a breath of relief and turned their head towards the shed. The ever-present fog hovering near the ceiling helped, but it still hurt Chara’s eyes to look at the light bouncing off the snow’s sparkly surface. That was another thing. If they wanted to, they could pretend the town _wasn’t_ deserted, and they _weren’t_ about to confront a killer in a cage.

But, they reasoned, there was a first time for everything.

The difference between standing behind and outside the front door threshold was impeccable. As soon as they stepped foot out of the door, the cold hit them like a truckload of seawater, enveloping their skin in waves and seeping quickly through their normal clothes. It wasn’t snowing yet, thank Angel, or the winds would have definitely dashed whatever enthusiasm they had that morning.

Chara hustled through the snow, trudging their red boots through the freezing white powder. It was very quiet.

Frisk saw them before they had even set foot inside the shed.

“Good morning, pretty mirror!” Chara greeted cheerfully, looking around what they assumed was ‘The Gauntlet’. A small dog yipped at them from the corner, a glowing red ball in between its paws. They had to admit, at least it was warm in here with the drum fire pit readily acting as a heater.

The spaces in between the bars, which might once had been wide enough for anyone to slip through, had been made thrice as narrow with the addition of giant glowing blue femurs in between. Blue magic. Impossible to get out of, Chara supposed.

They waited for Frisk to blink and with a cheeky grin, teleported themself over to sit cross-legged just in front of the bars. The other human grunted in surprise before determinedly resumed glaring daggers at Chara.

“I thought you might get even grumpier without the first most important meal of the day, so I made you a little something. It’s gotten cold though… Here, let me heat it up for you.”

With a snap of their fingers, a tiny vermillion fireball formed above their hand and floated over to hover just above the food. Chara set down the plate, which was suddenly through the bars. Frisk’s eyes were open and staring, uncomprehending. Chara giggled.

“Go ahead and eat. It’s fire magic so it should be just pleasantly warm, not burning.

**“But you already know that, don’t you?”**

Frisk snapped their head up, face wary despite remaining narrow-eyed and otherwise passive. They made no move to take the plate off of the floor.

There were a few minutes spent sitting in silence, merely being in each other’s presence and allowing the tension to get thicker and thicker between them.

Chara pretended to look around, as if they were looking for conversation topics in the spring-trapped corners.

Eventually, they spoke, “Where I come from, humans who have fallen down immediately find themselves in a part of the Underground called the Ruins, where they meet a nice and friendly keeper and get invited to their home.”

A pause. It sounded like Chara was just going to leave it there.

“Sound familiar?” Frisk never sat down. They were still standing, staring impassively at the other human as if daring them to come and fight them. Chara merely smiled.

“My keeper was male, I think, and had a loud and slightly nasally voice, like this,” Chara imitated their friend’s laugh as best they could, then laughing more genuinely at their own failed attempt. All the while, Frisk watched from behind the barrier. “...I never got his name. But we were still close friends. So much so that it appears even in another universe, where we have been replaced with other placeholders, the friendship through the door still survives.

"Now, Sans told me that here, the voice behind the door…” their voice shook for just a bit, “was a woman. Yeah? And that she ate anything with snails in them and loved bad jokes and -- and that she had the best pie recipe.”

Chara turned away, hands in their pockets, then turned back.

“And most importantly, that she never once answered his knocks from the moment you came out of the door.”

Frisk didn’t answer. Their hands shook, fingers twitching by their sides.

“That’s right,” Chara plastered on a mock smile that didn’t reach their eyes at all. Their irises were tinted with the colour of wine. “You know who she is." That wasn't a question. "Do you know who she is to me?”

Chara climbed to their feet slowly, as if prolonging the distraction for as long as they could. They shook, tensed. Neither could tell if it was strain from the knife wound or anger or sorrow. When they finished, they stood with their hands at their sides, head down, face shadowed. In the young light of morning, something gleamed red from underneath their straight-cut bangs.

“Do you feel bad, distorted mirror?” Chara wondered, voice empty. “Do you _feel_ anything at all?”

Several nondescript knives appeared, smothered in crimson-coloured magic. They hovered back and forth ominously just over Chara’s shoulder as if feeling particularly stabby. The ever-present smile hadn’t moved at all from their face, but above it, instead of two wide brown eyes staring at Frisk, it was a single ignited blood-red orb, glowing so brightly it might’ve been made entirely out of magic. Their other eye was closed in a parody of a wink.

**“Would you like help feeling pain?”**

\--

Extra:

If Flowey tries to get in through the door:   
**It’s locked.**

If he tries popping up into the shed from the floorboards:   
**The floor is perfectly pristine and incredibly tough, almost like… metal.  
You can’t find a hole to squeeze into.**

If he tries looking in the windows:   
**There are no windows.**

If he tries squeezing his vines inside to unlock the door or do anything to help Geno-Frisk:   
**A mysterious force field surrounds the inside of the shed. It is incredibly powerful. Your Soul withers in its presence.  
...It’s the dog.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> KINDA IMPORTANT:  
> Callii, and also probably anyone reading this story, OH MY GOD I DID NOT KNOW STORYSHIFT WAS ORIGINALLY A FAN FICTION. Written by Voltrathelively! I feel kind of dumb, hahah! That said, a warning that this story might not follow or reference a lot of things from that fan fiction, as really all I knew of Storyshift before was what I saw of the tumblr tag, the YouTube theme remixes, and that's it. I don't think that will change in the future as it would mean me deviating too much from my original plan for this story.
> 
> Callii, thank you so much for your kind words! I don't mind helpful tidbits like that at all! Also, what a coincidence that you predicted what was going to happen in this chapter...
> 
> \--
> 
> Can anybody tell me how to not have the last chapter's notes here as well? Or is it just supposed to be like that for me? Thanks, loveya. 
> 
> Also, shameless self-promo/excuses: I'm trying to make my own visual novel! If you know of any good background artists or places to find royalty-free backgrounds, please do tell. 
> 
> \--
> 
> SigHappy, you're way too kind! *noms on cookie*
> 
> goodygoody19, it'll be a while until the Sans-es (Chara counts as a Sans?) let them though...
> 
> Menoshe, thanks! Hopefully they'll fix that. I'm the type of person to update with every single tiny mistake fixed so I'll try to refrain from doing exactly that in case it gets annoying X)
> 
> Linkthetoa, oh yes. The homesickness is real. And so is the natural anger and frustration that comes with being a smol human child.
> 
> XxBulletofRomexX, good idea on how this could end! And yes, the default behaviour for Sans is 'lazy', heheh.
> 
> Skadi, that's so accurate though XD Chara shares the sentiment.
> 
> eJ121, OF COURSE NOTHING IS GREATER THAN THE GREAT PAPYRUS!!!


	4. YOU DIDN'T DO A VIOLENCE!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But it didn't mean they didn't want to.
> 
> Does Chara want to keep their magic a secret? No. Not all of it, anyway.

Adrenaline coursed through Chara in viciously urging waves, clouding their thoughts, dyeing their reasoning… they had gone tunnel-vision, only focused on Frisk’s terrified and yet fascinated expression. Somehow the alien sort of delight on the other human’s face both deterred and spurred Chara on, making them want to falter. They never did.

A deadly chill ran up their back as Frisk took a step forward, towards the bone prison bars. Their uncharacteristically wide, unblinking eyes flashed and flickered in the glow of moving red and static blue magic as if trying to burn the image in front of them, with Sans’ oversized jacket hanging on Chara’s thin frame like death robes, a different kind of smile frozen in place, into their twisted head. The other human stood dramatically, arm low but fingers outstretched towards the ground. Frisk noticed that their hands were shaking and met their dread-filled gaze with their own empty one.

Chara schooled their slightly horrified, disgusted look and tried for a hesitant smile-grimace. They relaxed and stilled before raising their right arm over their head, index finger up as if to command the blades. This scene had gone on for far too long. “You really are a sicko, aren’t you?”

_Crunch crunch crunch crunch._

The arm froze mid-swing. Chara’s eyes, still blazing red, widened in surprise. They were looking somewhere beyond Frisk.

And just as it had started, the moment ended. The blades disappeared as if they had never been there and Chara quickly stuffed their hands back into Sans’ jacket pockets. They frowned wordlessly, head tilting down just so that the shadows hid the glow in their eyes.

Not a moment too soon, as just then the shed door slammed open to reveal disgruntled and harried-looking Sans and Papyrus, respectively. For a fraction of a second, the humans thought they could see something -- two somethings -- else over the brothers' shoulder joints. Something solid and chalk-like in colour, including two distinct flashes of blue and orange light, but it was gone too fast for it to have been anything other that the landscape. It took a moment to dawn on the one behind bars that Chara must’ve heard their footsteps first.

Neither of the two children were happy with this.

“HUMAN! HOW DID YOU GET PAST THE GAUNTLET OF DEADLY TERROR? AND WHILE YOU ARE INJURED??” Papyrus pushed past Sans and stepped over his own traps before -- much to Chara’s surprise and everybody else’s amusement -- he scooped the small human up in his arms in one easy fell swoop. “ARE YOU ALRIGHT???”

Sans chuckled from the threshold, slumping against it as if he had suddenly become very tired. “you really _rattled our bones_ there, kid.”

His eye sockets dimmed every time his wary gaze passed over Frisk, betraying the strained grin that was barely there. He made no move to get closer, instead seemingly content with rocking on the heels of his slippers. He seemed jittery and rather high-strung, or maybe this was how he normally was -- there was no way for Chara to know for sure, having only known the guy for a few waking hours.

“Sorry,” the human huffed out a laugh as Papyrus carefully inspected every visible inch of them. “I’m fine! Felt better this morning.”

“THE GREAT PAPYRUS UNDERSTANDS IF YOU COULDN’T WAIT TO CELEBRATE YOUR NEW VIGOUR BY GETTING OUT OF THE HOUSE, BUT THAT WAS AWFULLY IRRESPONSIBLE OF YOU! CERTAINLY UNCOOL!”

As he spoke, Papyrus made his way step by step back to stand with Sans. The two brothers exchanged glances at the door. It suddenly occurred to Chara, briefly, that the skeletons were scared of Frisk.

Right after the thought finished processing, the three of them were standing outside, the door closing behind them. A wind had stirred up in the minutes they were inside and it made Papyrus’ scarf flutter in the icy air as the trio started the journey back to the house, Chara once again not allowed to walk on their own.

They were quiet for a while, all attempts of conversation blown away by the whistling winds. The walk was supposed to be very short, and yet somehow every step the skeletons took felt to Chara heavy and drawn-out. It could just be their imagination.

Finally they reached indoors. Chara’s cheeks and ears tingling in the warmth of the house, they patted their thanks to Papyrus as he set them down gently once again on the couch.

The house. Huh. Chara didn’t remember theirs ever feeling quite this homey. Sans sat on the couch next to them and had pulled out a book out of nowhere, now flicking through it absentmindedly. It felt like he had something to talk to them about.

Without thinking, without knowing why exactly they did so, the human blurted out before Papyrus could fully disappear into the kitchen, “Why aren’t you scared of me?”

The tall skeleton stopped. “WHAT DO YOU MEAN, TINY HUMAN?” Chara was reluctant to look up, dreading the moment they would find a warning look on the monster's face. But there wasn’t one. There wasn’t even a scary expression on Sans either. The two brothers seemed genuinely confused, looking at Chara with faces of concern mixed with curiosity. The honest-to-goodness sincerity in their attention couldn’t help but unnerve Chara a bit.

“I mean… You’re scared of the demon because they’re human, right? Because their Soul is stronger than yours. Well…” Chara looked down, face blank, and laid a hand across their chest. “So’s mine. I’m human, too. I can hurt you if I wanted.”

Sans and Papyrus exchanged worried looks at each other, silent. Chara’s patience grew thin.

“I can FIGHT you. I know I can. I can… make you fall down.”

The human, already injured, looked even smaller swamped in the oversized thick blue jacket.

Papyrus’ brows scrunched together, upset. “...WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?? HUMAN, DO NOT BE SAD. PLEASE.”

“Sad?” Chara startled. “I… I’m not --”

“YOU CANNOT LIE TO THE GREAT PAPYRUS. I CAN SEE RIGHT THROUGH YOU.”

“I’m not lying!” they squawked indignantly. “Look, you’re avoiding the question --”

But Papyrus only gave them this _look_ as if he understood them. As if he knew all of their quirks, all of their safety zones, lived with them, grew up with them, cried tears of joy when his parents had surprised them both with adoption papers, cried in shame at all of their shared baking mistakes --

but he didn’t.

He wasn’t Asriel. Not really.

But Papyrus was kind. And he knew when to shut up. And he was warm. Not fluffy or squishy, and didn’t have ears at all… but he gave out hugs when Chara needed them most, as if they were treats on Halloween, like Asriel.

But he wasn’t.

Asriel wasn't here right now. And truthfully, if the way Sans had avoided their questions the night before was anything to go by, Chara was rather scared to wonder where he might be.

The human slumped with their chin tucked over a boney forearm, defeated. They burrowed their face into a tattered red scarf, which was so unlike the smoke-scented neckerchief Asriel always wore everywhere. A ribcage pressed against their own ( _which, okay, ow_ ), Papyrus was all angles and sharp, protruding edges but… Chara was comforted by his hug. And they hated that fact maybe a little less than they should.

“You’re not him,” they mumbled helplessly, gently pushing Papyrus away. Reluctantly did he relent. Chara fell back into the stain-splotched forest green cushions, flicking the giant hood of Sans’ jacket up to obscure their face. They didn’t want to meet the tall skeleton’s hopeful eyes. They couldn’t. They were exhausted.

\--

It was a long time before anyone else said anything. Chara might’ve even fallen asleep, arms folded and feet drawn up closer to an arched spine.

By the time they opened their eyes, they had a crick in their neck, Papyrus was sitting beside them with something like a book of crosswords on his lap and Sans’ arm was on their shoulder. They realised he hadn’t asked for his jacket back yet, and internally found a bit of comfort in that.

“hey kid. feeling better?”

Chara sunk even deeper into the couch and regretted it immediately when it meant pressing on the bandages on their chest. Something dry and flaky lifted off their skin and Chara held their breath. It smelled like masking sugar and pus.

It was obvious the pajama-clad monster felt the need to verbally tiptoe around them.

“I’m home-sick,” they exhaled, the words tasting bland on their tongue, loud and clear.

Papyrus said nothing but looked at them with soft, unaccusing eyes.

“No, no, don’t feel bad. There’s nothing you can do, Papyrus. I’ll feel better on my own in a while anyway, so don’t worry about it, okay?”

They smiled, contented, the constant turmoil that had wrecked the inside of their head ever since they woke up in that weird room in the back of this very house an ocean of calm for once. Chara usually hated pity, in any form, but having someone care about you was nice, they guessed. They thought it was okay.

That was, until they felt cool, hard pads swiping against the underside of their eyelashes.

They snapped their eyes open in surprise just in time to catch a glimpse of the moisture Papyrus’ finger bones came away with.

“It is okay, Human,” he shushed in a normal speaking volume, which Chara guessed for him was as quiet as he could get. “Everything will be alright. It always is, I know it. You will regain your happiness soon, living with us. Sans always said I could make anyone feel better by just being myself so…” then, he frowned, teeth clacking together. He looked upset. “No. That wouldn’t work with you, would it?”

Sans looked between the two of you, concerned. “bro…”

Without warning, Papyrus then jumped up, so much energy inside of him he was practically vibrating with excitement. 

“I KNOW HOW TO CHEER YOU UP!” he crowed. “AH, BUT MY PLAN IS TOO GREAT FOR YOU WHILE YOU ARE IN THIS FRAGILE STATE. WAIT HERE, TINY HUMAN! I SHALL COME BACK WITH THE SUPPLIES NECESSARY TO CHANGE YOUR BANDAGES. THEN, YOU WILL BE ABLE TO HEAL PROPERLY, AND THEN -- SPOILER ALERT -- WE CAN GO OUTSIDE! NYEH! HEH HEH! NYEHEHEHEHEHEH!”

He walked, or rather, magically strutted to his room in a path that was anything but straight, not even bothering to take the stairs. Chara looked at Sans.

“yep,” he answered the unsaid question. “he always exits rooms like that.”

And so they waited, in silence. Chara dreaded movement in case they pulled on their wound again.

The human had no idea what Sans was thinking, or even if he was thinking at all. His eyes were narrowed, the pinpricks of light in his eyes flickering away to stare at a spot on the floor.

_this is the first time i’ve locked eyes with you without having a knife coming for my core._

Chara shivered and Sans looked at them questioningly. Those words held more weight to them than the skeleton was letting on, didn’t they?

“I’m sorry,” they said. It was the only thing they could say right now. Sans, expression a mix of a smile and a wince, looked up as if he was going to say something, but neither of them had any time before the bedroom door upstairs slammed open again and Papyrus walked out, arms laden with the jar from before and a single roll of bandages compared to the entire box yesterday.

“HUMAN! SANS! NEWS! WE ARE ALMOST OUT OF MEDICAL SUPPLIES!”

“seriously bro?”

“YES! BUT WE HAVE ENOUGH… I THINK… FOR NOW.”

Chara took a breath, swallowed the lump of fear in their throat and offered Papyrus a crooked smile that couldn’t quite manage it on one side.

“Do we… have to do this now?” They were just getting good at ignoring the pain, too.

“WELL, YES, ACTUALLY. I HAVE CALLED A SQUISHY DOCTOR WHO LIVES IN THE CAPITOL. THEY WILL COME TOMORROW, BUT UNTIL THEN, THEY HAVE INSTRUCTED ME TO KEEP THE WOUNDED AREA CLEAN AND THAT MEANS CHANGING BANDAGES EVERY…” Papyrus peered at his outstretched fingers over the half-empty jar in his left hand. “DAY.”

“R-Right.” Chara shot Sans a pleading look. He gave them a helpless shrug back as if to say, ‘i don’t know what you want me to do, kid’.

“gotta do what the doc says, right?” Sans slowly moved as if to help the jacket off them. Chara turned away, subconsciously holding on to the overstretched borders.

“Y...eah,” they muttered, eyes wide and flickering between Papyrus, the objects in his hands and Sans repeatedly.

“kid, what are you afraid of? you won’t even feel it… right?”

A pause. Something seemed to have just dawned on him. The shorter skeleton’s eye sockets widened, the dots of light dilating to almost twice their normal size. Drops of cold sweat formed on his skull, eyes getting sheepish as they slowly turned to Papyrus.

“um… paps… we do have painkillers in the house, don’t we?”

“PAINKILLERS?” Papyrus repeated. “SOUNDS… FEARSOME. WHAT ARE THOSE?”

Sans turns to look at a glowering Chara. “whoops. we’ll get some later, kid, i swear.”

The human couldn’t bring the self to muster up any real animosity towards him, though. “It’s fine,” they muttered. “I should’ve expected it. Our house didn’t -- doesn’t have any painkillers either.” They decided to leave out the fact that this was because their Mum would be there to take the scrapes and burns away in an instant. She was the greatest healer around. “Alright.”

Chara slowly took off Sans’ jacket. They took as much time as they could, taking forever to pull down the zipper and slip out of the blue ketchup-scented cloth. Nobody seemed to mind this. Too soon, it was off and their shoulders bare, shivering, sitting there on the couch with nothing covering their top half but soggy bandages. 

It smelled horrible. 

They sullenly picked at the edges. The dark reddish brown of dried blood had mixed with the green and had visibly seeped through the layers of bandages, despite the sheer number of times Papyrus had wrapped them over each other. 

The taller skeleton quietly settled himself on the floor again, in front of Chara like before. Both brothers exchanged uneasy looks while the human focused on peeling back miles and miles of white cloth from their midsection.

What it revealed wasn’t a pretty sight. The last twenty centimeters of bandages or so had stuck on, at first, attached by flakes of dried blood and foul-smelling tissue fluid and a fine layer of sweat. Chara, with trembling hands and uneven breaths, had been ready to give up right then and there but they knew that wasn’t an option. So eyes closed, breath held, they gripped onto the length of cloth and determinedly gave it a firm pull.

“!!!” They swore. Loudly. Their chest was leaking again. Warm, dark red liquid -- too dark, almost black -- oozed out of the gash, which, Chara noted with a sense of dreaded affirmation, didn’t look at all smaller from the last time they had seen it. At least the bruises had healed, somewhat. Their skin was yellower around the cut, the only telling sign the wound was made with a blunt _toy knife_ out of all things. 

They glared balefully at the deteriorating state of their midsection and hissed another curse.

A note of panic was in Papyrus’ voice. “SANS, GO CALL THE DOCTOR.”

“on it, bro.” A weight was lifted off the couch and when Chara looked up again, Sans was already upstairs… somewhere. They couldn’t see him, but he wasn’t in the room anymore.

“HUMAN!!! THIS ISN’T WHAT ‘BETTER’ LOOKS LIKE, IS IT???”

“Nope.”

Papyrus looked over the half-empty jar of perfectly good green-magic salve and set it aside ruefully. “IT’S NOT OUT OF DATE,” he muttered, looking around distrustfully.

“Nah. Wouldn’t matter if it was.”

Sans poked the top half of his body from behind his door, holding what looked like a vintage black rotary phone in his left hand while the other held the receiver to his skull. It was unplugged, but that didn’t stop a faint high-pitched voice from chattering from its speaker. “wait, does this count it an emergency?”

“Not really.”

“YES!”

“alrighty. she’ll be down here in…” he waited, the voice on the phone saying something else, then relayed, “around ten minutes.”

“TEN MINUTES??” Papyrus echoed, drops of sweat appearing on his skull much like how they did on Sans. Chara sleepily wondered how that works when the brothers don’t even have skin, then put it aside as a family thing. “THAT’S TOO LONG! THE HUMAN WILL BLEED OUT BEFORE THEN!”

“No, I won’t,” they said calmly. Chara made grabby hands for the roll of bandages. Papyrus passed it to them without even looking. The white cloth felt a lot scratchier without the salve on it, but it could also probably be the weeping cut being sensitive still from almost twenty four hours of being in contact with foreign magic. 

“you got a plan, bro?”

“...” Papyrus stuck a finger up in the air and had his jaw wide open as if to say something, but then changed his mind and stayed silent. He suddenly looked guilty about something.

He and Sans looked at each other and Chara could’ve sworn a whole conversation was happening in from of them without either skeleton having to open his mouth.

“got it. i’ll be right back. hey, are you still there…?” His room door closed with a rather loud click and the sound of wood on wood. It had been weird the first time to realise Sans was sleeping where Chara would’ve slept back home. It was weirder the second time.

They tried to bite off the end of the bandage but -- _What --? Oh. Oops._ \-- realised they had used up the entire roll. Oh well. 

Just as they tucked in the end of the bandage themself, already finished stemming the bleeding on their own, Papyrus finally looked over at them and did a comical double-take. 

\--

Meanwhile, Sans was already over at Hotland, in Alphys’ lab standing in front of the door. She squeaked in surprise and threw up her lab coat, which she had been in the middle of pulling on when he arrived. Underneath, he could see pajamas pants and a pink form-fitting shirt with oriental writing on it.

“oh, sorry,” he said to the phone, turning around with his hand cupping the side of his eye sockets. 

“S-Sans!” Alphys said behind him, too shy to shout. She had already hung up. “...It’s weird seeing you without an overcoat of some kind.”

“hey. i gotta keep my image fresh somehow, right?” Alphys pulled a bravely disgusted face at the word ‘fresh’. She soon regained her seriousness though, going around collecting what seemed like random tidbits around the lab. She frowned, eyes affixed on the floor.

“It’s true, isn’t it? Is there -- “ her voice dropped low and she hissed at him as if somebody was listening through the walls, “ -- really --?

“a human? yep.”

“-- two of them?”

“we’ve quarantined the dangerous one, but the other one’s nice and we think they might be dying.”

“R-r-right…” There was the sound of a closet being opened then slamming closed too loudly and a following squeak from Alphys. Bottles of pills jangled, metal instruments ringing against each other. “Wait, ‘dying’??”

“...yeah?” Sans let their hand fall and finally took the turned-off phone away from his skull. That joke’s old, anyways. “i thought you knew this already.”

“You made i-it sound as if it was j-just a little scrape or c-c-cut! I don’t have cam-cameras inside your h-house!”

“oh,” Sans shifted his weight from foot to foot, hands in his pockets. “...bring painkillers, wouldja?”

They lapsed into companionable, if slightly panicked, silence. They each had their own issues to worry about, but otherwise were in tandem about what to do about this whole human business. She finished pushing her head through a thick sweater with the words ‘Beware! Netizen’ with an arrow pointing up above it. Alphys hustled, hefting a large old leather bag that was peeling at some parts but was otherwise perfectly clean. She tapped Sans on the shoulder and they both looked at each other for a bit, appraising.

“...It’s nice to see you again, Sans,” Alphys smiled weakly. Sans returned the gesture. 

“ready?” he asked, wrapping his bony fingers gently but firmly around her forearm.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Alphys muttered, nervous sweat sliding down her neck. 

Sans nodded. “alright.”

They disappeared.

They reappeared, in front of the skelebros’ house in Snowdin. Alphys looked at the toolshed, sitting so innocently in the snow, with a measure of fear. Literally four wooden walls stood between The-One-Who-Has-Seen-The-Surface and the rest of the Underground. 

Sans was on the phone again. “bro, i forgot my keys.”

Footsteps, getting louder as Papyrus ran closer to the door. It was yanked open with a cry doubled on the phone, “BROTHER!”

Sans lifted a hand up in greeting, still talking to the phone, “hey. brought the doc.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alphys here! 
> 
> It appears that a lot of people were eagerly expecting a bad time, a la Chara. I almost felt bad posting this. Sorry!
> 
> \--
> 
> Fun fact: only recently did I move this story out from the gigantic, lag-inducing file in my Google Docs titled 'Undertale Character inserts dilute crack'.
> 
> \--
> 
> Callii, you're killing me here. Please stahp predicting everything. Ohma XD
> 
> xXBulletofRomeXx, you too. I swear both of you somehow hacked into my docs, haha.
> 
> Skadi, fun fact, I was originally going to cut 'distorted mirror' out because I thought it sounded awkward, but then forgot to do it. Heh.
> 
> Cyrus67, goodygoody19, I hope I'm not disappointing any of you! Your words are always so nice that sometimes I'm afraid the next chapter won't be deserving of them, haha! 
> 
> SigHappy, thank you! Also, Sans reacted with low-key panic. And blasters.
> 
> cryptologicalMystic, bark. Borf. Woof woof woof.
> 
> Linkthetoa, bad time is coming! ...I think. I'm planning on, anyway, in the future. Sorry to disappoint, hehe.


	5. The recipe asked for cups of butter...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chara's condition worsens, Sans is being vague, and Alphys gets to watch emergency anti-freakout anime. Also, Papyrus gets a visit from a long-time friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A simple infection? A cure? A sickness?  
> Storyshift Chara doesn't know the taste of dangerous, poisonous buttercups.  
> ...Right?  
> \--Warning: This is where made-up lore starts being dropped in. Okay.

Alphys waved meekly, not trusting herself enough to speak.

Papyrus looked at her severely, a small distressed frown on his face. Then said with ahand to the side of his face, as if it would do anything to mute his loud voice, “...SANS, THIS IS NOT THE SQUISHY DOCTOR FROM THE CAPITOL.” 

“alphys is even better. she knows the most about humans than anyone else in the underground, remember?”

“HNN, YOU KNOW WHAT?” he said suddenly, going bug-eyed. “I’LL TAKE IT! THIS IS AN EMERGENCY! MY HUMAN FRIEND IS SUFFERING!!” That was all the warning Alphys got before Papyrus lifted her and carried her inside and to the couch on his hip. She didn’t even have a chance to react properly before she was back on her feet, very disoriented, flustered, and feeling like she had just stepped into a situation that was way out of her league. She started to want to back out. 

One look at the ‘good’ human changed that. At first, their resemblance to the _other one_ almost made Alphys scream out loud. She clapped a clawed hand to her maw, the other one tightening its grip on the strap of her leather satchel, and swallowed down her fear. Right now, they looked like they couldn’t even stand up, never mind swing a blade at her.

They were hurting, that much was obvious after a short inspection that comprised merely of her looking up to down. The skin around their mouths and hands had swelled and blistered, going an angry, painful-looking red with white, fluid-filled sac in them that she imagined could easily rupture. Some already had and left gaping, weeping holes in their place, though that didn’t stop the barely-conscious human from instinctively pressing their arms against their abdomen, where more dominant pain seemed to be coming from. Their lips were tightly pressed together and stubbornly refused to open, but Alphys could see the telltale tension that mean they were probably gritting their teeth as well. 

“O-oh,” she stuttered, shuffling nervously in place. “Oh, this is bad. This is really bad. I had no idea they were so weak. I… I don’t think I brought enough medicine or -- or _anything_ to fix this! I should’ve been here earlier, I --”

Sans speed-walked up next to her, his calm saunter gone within the first few steps indoors. “oh no,” he breathed.

And he was worried. They all were, and it wasn’t very hard to see why. From what she’d seen of the grainy recordings of Papyrus’ fight, this human was the only reason the taller skeleton brother was still breathing. No doubt Sans would’ve taken to slightly more than a liking to them. 

(She had been too busy organising a emergency evacuation for everyone in the Capitol to watch the bad human’s murder spree real-time. People could've died and she wouldn't have known… That was a scary thought for which she still hated herself still.)

Perhaps this was what stopped her from outright going to no-holds-barred, freak-out mode. 

Because this human was definitely _not_ just sleeping. Not peacefully, anyway. Their face was the very image of feverish, cheeks flushed rosy circles on their worryingly pale skin. Brows furrowed, eyes scrunched, the corners of their lips turned downwards in distress, they looked, well, unwell.

Sans and Alphys exchanged looks in the way only ex-colleagues could.

“kid. hey, kid…” Sans sat down next to the human and shook their shoulder gently. “wake up… if you sleep any more you’re really going to make me deep rest…”

Alphys quickly busied herself with opening up her bag and laying out the instruments she thought she would need, just the human’s eyes started to flutter open. They looked up tiredly at Sans, eyes faraway and unfocused.

“That… was terrible,” they groaned, sweat dripping down their face. 

Their voice struck something inside of Alphys, reminding her of grainy tapes and low-quality sound, of happier days of hopes and dreams. But it couldn’t be. She must be mistaken.

“Oh. Hello.” The human took one look at her before leaning slightly wobbly towards Sans, eyes hazy. Their straight-cut mousy brown hair stuck to their forehead. “I don’t… know her?” Eyebrows furrowed but lips smiling, they regarded her, “Who’re you, cute little thing?”

Alphys’ face turned so red she gained dizzy swirls on her glasses. _The human was f-flirting with her?!_ This convinced her that they had to be their own person, being so different from the murdering human… and the first. 

“O-oh, u-u-um…”

Sans’ grin lost a little bit of its tension. Not completely, but some. “this is alphys.”

Papyrus hovered behind her uncertainly, obviously wanting to help but having no idea as to how. He chirped in, “SHE IS THE ROYAL SCIENTIST.”

“Oh really, now?” Chara sighed and hummed, eyes closing yet again. “Dad is too. You’d get along, I think.” 

Papyrus and Alphys exchanged looks. “HUMANS HAVE ROYAL SCIENTISTS TOO?” The yellow lizard could do nothing but shrug.

At first glance it would seem like Sans was nonplussed with the human’s words, but beads of sweat had formed on his skull. “they don’t know what they’re talking about, right kid?”

“I’ll have you know that I know a thing or two about science. You know this, don’t you, your highness? Did I work freelance for you without you knowing…? Oh man, I can’t remember.” They winced, curling up on themself again. “My… stomach… hurts.”

“Right, I’m so sorry,” Alphys muttered to herself, fumbling slightly with a high-tech machine that looked well used. She turned to the human. “U-um… This is a machine I use to check other people’s stats. With it, I can see your A-T-K and D-E-F as numerical 'points’. Your health, too, will be displayed as a fraction of its maximum value… it’s pretty rude to do it without their consent though so… may I?”

She supposed it wasn’t really fair seeing as how they obviously weren’t completely there, but the human did not give her much of a choice. They didn’t answer, seemingly having nodded off once again, so with an encouraging nod from Sans, Alphys turned on the machine.

...It was a while of waiting silently before the readings were available for printing. When the were ready, she printed it out. Some more waiting as the tiny piece of paper was slid out, little, by little, as the powdered ink was printed onto it slowly. It’s… It’s done now.

“O-oh no…” she whimpered, setting the small piece of paper, smaller than a shopping receipt, face-down on the carpet, since there was no table. “H-P three out of thirty.”

“THIRTY?” Papyrus said, startling Alphys so much she almost dropped the check machine. Fortunately she managed to fumble it back the last second. “BUT I THOUGHT! HUMANS! WERE STRONGER THAN THAT!”

Sans looked to his brother, grin more strained than usual. “misconception, bro. human bodies, as physical as they are, are pretty weak.”

Alphys left Sans to explain as she gingerly took out a box filled with white strips of paper with a turquoise pad at each end. She tore a piece and held the coloured area in the air over Chara’s wound between her thumb and forefinger, keeping her hand as still as possible.

“You can’t… Save, can you?” Alphys asked weakly, the winced at her own question. The human merely smiled gently at her and shook their head. They looked to be thinking hard about something.

“their attack and defence points are actually usually pretty low without some kind of weapon or armour backing them up.”

The voice of her past coworker drowned itself out to a dull narrating ambiance as she worked, absorbed in her concentration. A small nagging urge reminded her what a good opportunity this was to study a real, living human. Actually study them, up close and personal. With the right equipment, she could take priceless readings, countless base subjects, record reference material that centuries ago was lost to time and accidents. Not watch, not observe, but first-hand study. An opportunity like this might never come again…

But.

No. Just, no.

“ _unlike monsters, most humans don’t wield magic, so they can’t have their virtues be tied to nothing but their magic type._

Reaching tendrils of darkness engulfed the entire piece of paper within seconds.

The white part of the strip of paper had turned a quick, decisive black, inky and foreign even under the pads of her fingers. Alphys yelped in surprise and dropped it to the ground, where it fluttered under the couch, never to be seen again. It didn’t matter. The foul colour had been burnt into her eyelids, mocking her with its implications.

_“so instead, humans have their virtues painted as the colour of their souls. it’s pretty rare, but these traits could be so powerful that it can even allow a human soul to hold on to life without a body… but we’ve heard that last one before.”_

The lizard rubbed her eyes as if she could wipe her budding cold perturbation away. She turned around slowly as she tried to come up with a way to say what she had to.

Sans had shoved his hands in his pajama pants pockets, seeing as his jacket was due for a wash anyway. He looked worried. “doc?”

“Patience, Justice, Bravery, Kindness…” she started, suddenly finding the ground very interesting. “...Integrity, Perseverance… and Determination. We call them ‘virtues’ but...” she turned away and sighed. “The truth is, there’s an eighth soul type. Nobody talks about it. We don’t learn about it very much because it’s the only soul colour that’s exclusive to humans...”

“Hatred,” came a weak, small voice. “Black magic. Monsters can’t do it because they’re made of love, hope and compassion.” Chara’s eyes never even opened. They sounded exhausted, but a small smile tugged itself onto the corners of their mouth. “It’s okay, Alphys. You don’t have to say it.”

“...I-I-I’m really s-sorry,” Alphys choked up. “I-I thought that maybe th-this would finally be m-my chance to do more good than harm…”

“It’s… okay” Chara yawned. Their eyes slipped closed once again. “We need to go grocery shopping soon...” They didn’t speak further.

The whites in Sans’ eyes had disappeared completely. His grin faltered. “alphys, you can’t be serious. that doesn’t matter, right? just pump the bad stuff out of ‘em and we’ll be good to go.”

“WHAT?” Papyrus demanded, voice small despite its volume. “WHAT’S GOING ON?”

“We’re dealing with a human soul’s power here,” Alphys said, gently more for Papyrus’ sake than Sans’. But there was no way to drop a bomb shell gently. “And not just any which one, but the single type that we monsters simply d-don’t --” she faltered and took a deep breath, “do not have the knowledge to combat.”

“ALPHYS, PLEASE. IF THERE IS ANY WAY AT ALL TO MAKE THE HUMAN FEEL BETTER, TELL US,” Papyrus pleaded, wringing his gloved hands together.

“There was one way, but…” Alphys almost had to stop herself from hitting herself in the face, jaw snapping shut. She looked down. “Nothing.”

Sans wouldn’t meet her eyes. For a long time, he just stood there, off to the side, silent save for the uneasy sound of his slippers shuffling against the carpet every few seconds.

“...it can work,” he said, in a low voice, like he could read Alphys’ mind. 

“No it can’t! What are you talking about?” she yelled, then flushed from her own outburst and tried to backtrack. “Th-there’s such a low chance of i-it working! I-I... It’ll j-just g-give you false ho-hope…!” 

“you know it can,” Sans muttered, turning his head away even more like he thought if he could crane his neck enough, he could hide from Papyrus’ expectant yet lost look.

“No,” she closed her eyes against flashing memories of her past failures. “No, I _don’t_.”

“alphys, look at them.” She did. The human was sleeping, soft snores rocking out of their throat every few seconds. They were physically as big as she was and yet looked so calm in sleep, so innocent; it didn’t take a human expert (even though she was one) to realise that this one was a young one. 

An image of her far nephew -- an enthusiastic, resourceful, harmless yellow lizard -- flashed before her eyes and deep in her soul, the scientist knew that they couldn’t be much older than him. 

Alphys’ resolve… started to melt.

But then the true implications of what Sans was suggesting hit her over the head. The reasonable fears and doubts bulldozed over the probabilities that she had calculated in her head -- the probabilities of success. 

Trembling, she started shaking her head from side to side.

“ALPHY --” Papyrus tried to intervene. In hindsight, probably to calm her down.

Either way, she lost it. “Enough!” The scientist screamed at the top of her lungs, heart racing, head pounding, eyes instinctively squeezed shut. “They don’t deserve to be my test subject! Nobody does! Not this human, not them…!” 

Sans sounded alarmed. 

His attempts to apologize and calm her down was lost in the roaring blood rushing through her ears. “I’m done blindly trying things out! I’m done taking chances! Maybe injecting everything with **Determination** might’ve sounded like a good idea at one point but not anymore!”

Huffing, sweating, completely spent, Alphys finished her rant with no small amount of mortification when she opened her eyes to see not two, but three other pairs focused on her. The human had startled awake. Upon meeting her wide-eyed gaze, they hastily pretended to go back to sleep.

Sans, with his back turned to the human, hadn't seemed to notice. “angel, alphys. i wasn’t thinking; i’m sorry. _you_ don’t have to do anything; just stay here with the kid and paps and contact me if anything happens alright?”

Sans looked up and met her eyes for the first time in solid minutes, a look of uncharacteristic resolution on his face. 

“BROTHER?” Papyrus called, and Alphys almost jumped in surprise. He was suddenly on the couch, sitting beside the unmoving human but far enough away that he wasn’t touching them. It was like he was scared to, in case they would break. 

“It’s too risky!” Alphys cried out, probably already in vain. Her knees were shaking, claws wringing together, she couldn’t do anything to stop him. “It’s -- It’s never been done before…!”

“it’s the only way to help them.” “WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO, SANS?” Papyrus asked, tone not quite suspicious but close. Instead, he just sounded scared.

“It’ll -- It’ll hurt them, too!” 

The shorter skeleton did not reply. Instead, he turned, heading straight for the kitchen until he was out of sight. Then the sounds of his footsteps halted.

“i know.”

He was gone.

Alphys looked back at the couch to see a very worried looking child. Flustered, she stammered the only thing she could think of at that moment. 

“HUMAN!” Papyrus exclaimed with barely constrained panic. “HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN AWAKE?” 

At his point, his voice could’ve been background noise. Chara looked long at Alphys, saying nothing but eyes communicating everything necessary. 

Flustered and ashamed, the yellow-scaled lizard stammered out the only thing she could think of at that moment, “Uhh, d-do you li-like…” sweat started pouring down her scales in buckets. “Anime?”

\--

Sometimes, Papyrus wished Sans would stop seeing him as nothing but his little brother. He didn’t mind -- it was, after all, what he was. He was Sans’ brother and Sans was his. It was clear as day for anyone to see -- which, should he clarify, days were always very clear in the Underground.

In a level of stealth only as skillful as the most ancient of ancient warriors, Papyrus peeked his skull out from behind his bedroom door and did some recon of his own. He gathered: Chara the Human and Alphys the Undyne’s Crush appeared to have calmed down significantly. They sat together on the couch, legs crossed and pulled up respectively, making two very distinct but slight dips. Even from afar Papyrus could see the moving pictures on-screen reflect as dancing colours in their eyes. It seems the cartoons were a common ground between them. Apparently, Alphys always kept a few CDs on her at all times for exactly these kinds of emergency situations. Papyrus approved of her foresight and thoughtfulness. Perhaps he could learn from her, do something similar, only improve it by using puzzle books instead of anime?

His eyes narrowed and he closed the door, returning to his pacing circles around the room. Already, he was working visible grooves into the carpet.

“Alright, Papyrus,” he hissed thoughtfully to himself, chin on between his knuckles. He was making an effort to be quiet, meaning the two watching television downstairs wouldn’t be able to hear what he was saying should they refrain from at least pressing their ears against the door. “Calm down. Go over what you know currently; that’s always a good tactic, right? Right…”

He stopped and huffed out a breath. 

_Number one, the human was very, very ill._

Yes, and a couple of minutes before Sans returned with Alphys in tow to simply _ask_ the human to wake and _succeeded_ (he was jealous, he would freely admit it), the Chara had been slumped over with their eyes closed and back to the couch, completely still, silent, and looking for all the world like they had fallen down. Papyrus could go on all day and he still wouldn’t have been able to completely describe the completely and utter fear he felt having to check for a pulse for the first ever time, and failing, then remembering he wouldn’t have been able to feel one anyway with his lack of skin. 

Now, the tiny human looked better at least. Awake, for one. Their midsection was wrapped neatly in bandages which, Papyrus had to begrudgingly admit, he was impressed by, as much as it pained him to have to tell them off for doing something by themself while they were ill. After all, as far as he was concerned, ill people just did not _do_ things by themselves.

Dark shadows plagued the human’s under-eye lids, despite the hours and hours of napping they had done the day before.

_Number two, Alphys and Sans knew why and how to fix them._

Awkwardly shuffling his feet, Papyrus peeked through his door once again to settle one severe eye on the stout scientist. She looked around as if she could feel his eyes on her before looking up and locking gazes with him. She smiled weakly. Papyrus smiled back on habit before remembering that he was supposed to be feeling bitter towards her and slamming the door on his own face.

_Number three, they won’t let me help._

Papyrus promptly returned pacing.

It felt… strange, being confined to the house. Papyrus felt antsy, like he was hyper aware of the fact that by this time of day, usually he would be outside, re-calibrating puzzles, training with Undyne… something. Somewhere, in the back of his skull, he knew it was kind of silly. It wasn’t like a measly door could stop the-thing-in-the-toolshed, should they be able to get past The Gauntlet of Deadly Terror. 

The unspoken rule both of them had made up was an impermanent precaution and one they couldn't possibly live by. The more he dwelled on it, the more Papyrus realised he didn’t really know what the rule was to begin with. Stay in the house? It was pointless. Keep an eye on each other? They were separated now…

Stay safe, stay together. It was usually much easier to keep to that.

In fact, he realised, it was probably better for him and Sans to be apart from each other. Wherever Sans was right now -- probably in Hotland, far, far away from here and the violent human -- he was safe, at least. Papyrus trusted him to be able to hold on to his 1HP. At least this way, Papyrus could make sure that his death, should it come sooner than he expected, would give enough time for his brother to escape.

“Friend?”

The tall skeleton started and whirled around to the source of the voice, hand instinctively raising itself to do magic in case --

“OH! HELLO, FLOWERY!” he greeted, the cheer on his voice sounding rather forced even to his own ears. He sheepishly let his hand drop to his side. “I AM SORRY I HAVEN’T BEEN ABLE TO LET YOU VISIT ME RECENTLY. IT’S BEEN… RATHER HECTIC.”

The yellow flower laughed softly and waved his leaves from outside the open window. He was clinging to the wooden frame by the many green vines that crept up the house’s side. “That’s okay! I’ve heard all about it. You and your brother and doing a very important job, huh? Guarding whatever it is inside the tool shed.”

“VERY IMPORTANT!” Papyrus exclaimed passionately. He hurried to open the window wider and let the him in, but his petal-ed friend refused. Rather violently. 

Flowery didn’t reply for a very long time. He didn’t seem focused, eyes averted down to somewhere Papyrus couldn't see, but could only guess was the living room through the kitchen window.

“...so, what's the deal, here?” The yellow flower asked, mouth drawn up in a sharper-than-normal smile. “Did you reprogram them? Brain-wash? Are they just playing with you?”

Papyrus straightened and fixed the talking flower with an unnerved stare. His friend didn’t seem very non-off today. 

At the tall skeleton’s questioning look, he seemed to deflate. He looked to be in the middle of amending, with his mouth open ready to explain, when the door behind Papyrus opened and a curious face peeked in.

And because other people were here now, and because he was so shy, Flowery ran away.

“Papyrus? Is everything okay?” Chara asked. The television was silent, probably on pause. Faintly, Papyrus could hear plastic on plastic being clattered around and concluded that Alphys was still downstairs changing CDs.

“ER,” he gazed distractedly at the window. “UHM, I MEAN, YES! YES, OF COURSE, HUMAN, WHY WOULDN’T IT BE? DO NOT WORRY ABOUT ME! YES, YES,” he looked around the room semi-nervously. “I’M FEELING VERY NOT SUSPICIOUS TODAY!”

“...Uh-huh.” Chara looked at him weirdly but thankfully, decided to ask instead. They absentmindedly scratched at the inside of their elbow. “Well, I was just thinking. We really need to start talking about what we’re going to do with Fr -- the human in the shed. Alphys already called… the king… to update him about the current situation, and he doesn’t seem to fully realise the danger they pose.” They paused then, frowning slightly at the floor. “Or maybe he does, judging by the total evacuation plan he ordered. I’m not sure.”

They were still scratching, but this time they had switched to the other arm’s entire underside. Papyrus placed a gloved hand on the human’s shoulder worriedly. When this didn’t stop the scratching, he gently took a hold of the offending hand’s wrist instead. Chara finally noticed what they were doing and stopped tugging at their hand. “POINT IS, YOU ARE WORRIED, YES?”

“Yes!” 

“NYEHE,” Papyrus chuckled good-naturedly, squeezing their shoulder to comfort them. “OUR KING KNOWS WHAT HE IS DOING. WE JUST HAVE TO TRUST THAT HE HAS THE BEST CHOICE IN MIND…. THOUGH, A LONG TIME AGO, WE WOULD BE TRUSTING THE QUEEN WITH THAT KIND OF SENSE… UHM, NO MATTER! EVERYTHING WILL BE JUST FINE, OKAY TINY HUMAN?”

Papyrus shook his fist in front of his chest like he saw Undyne do sometimes to be reassuring, but looked down only to see Chara with their eyes wide and jaw hanging open. They looked to have just realised something.

“ _I’m… royalty… here._ ”

“WHAT WAS THAT?” Papyrus tentatively poked their cheek. Hm, squishy.

“...Yeah,” they said faintly. “You’re… you’re right, Papyrus. I’m silly for worrying. Thanks for making me feel better. Now, I’ve… I gotta go sit down.”

“WAIT, HUMAN?” Papyrus debated with himself on whether he should ask the question out loud. Both sides of the argument each made a compelling case. “UM… I’M JUST… VERY CURIOUS! YOU DON’T HAVE TO ANSWER IF YOU DON’T WANT TO, BUT WHAT HAPPENED JUST NOW? YOU HAD THIS STRANGE FACE, AND THEN YOU SAID SOMETHING VERY QUIET.”

Chara looked at him strangely for a while, but a different kind of strange -- somewhat blank, like they were having their own debate within their own mind. Then they huffed out a small laugh. 

“Nothing. I just realised I might know where to find someone very important to me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From now on, I'm putting unimportant notes like this one with no space in between.  
> Like this. Okay.  
> I tried Googling 'How long to live after ingesting large quantities of buttercups' or something like that and guess what? **Nobody knows.** Literally nobody and nothing, horse and dogs included, have been stupid enough to die from buttercup poisoning because _even touching the darn things is painful enough_. Oh smol human child, why you do this to yourself.  
>  \--  
> cryptologicalMystic, :3
> 
> goodygoody19, I would think that malevolent, living human right now is more on her mind's surface than the long-dead lost hope of the Underground, and I would think that most of the tapes be like the ones we got to see in the game (as in, more audio than video tapes), so that's why she recognised the similarity only after SS!Chara spoke and not before. And also, YOU'RE wonderful! We'll see UT-Geno in the next chapter, I promise.
> 
> SigHappy, kudos, don't kudos, I'm grateful either way! I hope I've delivered on the Alphys build-up! She'll be here a while since unlike most people, I actually like her as a character, haha. 'Course I won't tell you if you predictions would be true or not (that would be too easy XD), but here's a little teaser - in this story, there's a reason why Chara's not breaking down completely.


	6. Call for help. I dare you.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are confrontations. And then there are those who spend their time alone with nothing but themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The names of characters in narratives depend on the narrator's point of view.

Monsters were made out of magic. Monster food was also made out of magic. This magic theoretically could -- and had -- kept humans like Chara alive and well just like any human food would, acting as a perfect substitute for lipids, proteins, minerals and vitamins as well as supplying their bodies with the energy they need to function. It was awesome.

But it didn’t mean that humans could live solely on magic. There was one more thing they needed, that was so abundant in their bodies that it was said that humans were made of it, and gave them the physicality they required to not melt under the pressure of their Virtues. It was very important. It was, fortunately, accessible in the Underground in abundance.

“It’s water.” 

Chara pushed the tin cup closer to Frisk with their magic through the bars. Once again, they were sitting, while Frisk remained adamantly standing; never mind the fact that Chara used ‘Paps is watching so I won’t kill you right now’ as their killer conversation starter. The dog in the corner woofed that neither children had any chill. Both ignored it.

Alphys told them she was staying in Snowdin until Sans came back. She wouldn’t say why, exactly, but Chara had a gut feeling. Right now, she was with the tall skeleton outside after having nervously refused to step foot into the shed, hopefully keeping warm while Chara tried to ‘gain the human’s trust’ by being alone with them. Earlier Papyrus had been in the room to swap out the untouched plate of breakfast with lunch -- a hopeful container of spaghetti, along with the glass of water, all the while maintaining friendly eye contact with Frisk and only slightly weak conversation attempts. He bravely neutralized the blue magic in one of the bones, an act which would rhetorically let anybody simply walk in and walk out, as if he trusted Frisk to behave. Chara had stayed in front of the hole in the bars to guard against an escape attempt either way, but surprisingly the tense seconds passed by with no issues.

Now, the cold plate of eggs and slightly soggy toast sat, set sadly off to the side where it had been since retrieval. All of the focus was on the cup of water.

“Finish it now and you get some more,” Chara sung in a teasing tone, as if they weren’t suggesting the option of dehydration. They were glad they were sitting -- it was a lot easier to appear intimidating when the other human couldn't see them hunch over their middle in pain. 

Frisk, expression as phlegmatic as ever, took a step forward. 

Chara opened their mouth as if to comment but then closed it and smiled.

Frisk took another step then, past the water. They shambled over to the bars and gripped at the wooden ones with both hands. Their eyes were open just a slit and shined a dulled maroon glint under the shadow of their messy bangs.

Chara could sense the blue magic running just near the surface of the wood, threatening to take life points off, but Frisk didn’t seem to care. At this, beads of nervous sweat began to dot Chara’s forehead.

“Wow, so… You… really want to fight, huh,” they breathed. As morbid as the killer's motives were, Chara couldn't help to at least be a little impressed at Frisk's tenacity. This mirror had guts, alright; didn't mean they had to like them.

Their eyes migrated to the side, as if they could see rather than hear Papyrus absentmindedly shoveling the driveway outside the shed’s slightly open (as per his demand) door. Muffled, they could hear both his voice and, very faintly, Alphys’, chattering nonsensically about puzzles and the impact of randomisation in calibrating them. They both sounded happy. 

Chara stood up and shoved their hands into the pockets of the jacket that was too big for them. They tilted their head to the side, eyes narrowing in a sweet smile, but still open just enough for two twin blazes of red magic to shine through. Despite how terrible they felt just an hour ago, Chara intended to take full advantage of their momentary strength while they still have it. 

**“...Well, I’ll be lying if I say I don’t want to kill you.”**

A pause. The corners of Frisk’s lips tilted. Just slightly, almost invisible if Chara hadn’t been looking very closely.

Two counts passed. Five. 

Chara's face had turned pensive, eyes narrowed and focused on the other human’s every action following their threatening words. 

“Funny,” they said, voice faint. “Last time I said that to my Frisk, they… cried. You found my words… funny? Almost as if… you’ve heard things like that before. _Too_ many times before. Am I wrong?”

Chara took a breath and exhaled, eyes slipping closed. They hummed.

“Until next time then, mirror.”

Frisk’s next blink was slightly forceful and lasted a couple of milliseconds more than it should've. When they opened their eyes again, the shed door was closed and Chara was nowhere to be seen.

Outside the crack through the slightly open door, there was a flash of yellow as a certain flower dove beneath the earth, having listened in for quite a while. 

\--

All conversation halted with Chara appearing suddenly on their side of the shed door, thankfully looking unscathed, and, hopefully, looking like they had left the other human uncathed too.

Alphys and Papyrus rushed forwards to meet them, cries of relief mixing in the air. They were so welcoming, like all monsters were.

Chara thrust a palm up at them as if telling them to stop. They do, with a couple of worried exclamations. But before either could fully ask what was wrong, the human doubled over, clutching their stomach --

and threw up.

It was, of course, disgusting. But it was also painful. They quickly grabbed onto the side of the toolshed to save themself from falling down face-first onto the growing pool of their own vomit below. The human hadn’t eaten breakfast thus far nor had they drunk anything for a while, so whatever little that did come out burned their throat and stung their mouth, giving way to more watery puke after the initial stream of chunks. The bile stung the dry and cracking corners of their mouth on its way out and splattered noisily onto the snow below. Their red boots were not spared. 

The foul-tasting sick ran out within the first two heaves of nothing but water, which at first Chara was grateful for, but that changed when the convulsions didn’t stop wracking through their body. It appeared that their stomach didn’t get the memo that it was already empty -- Chara kept retching and gagging on air, progressively getting more and more nauseous as the seconds ticked by. They had no idea what to do, could do nothing but keep their mouth open and just wait out the spasms.

Their stomach hurt so, so much.

Until, suddenly, finally, it stopped. The ringing in their ears lowered in volume but did not cease, letting them hear the sound of their own ragged breathing with a bit of difficulty. Something was helping them stay up, they knew that. Their legs had stopped being able to support their body long ago, knees permanently shaking so badly they could barely tell if any input from their head was being carried out or not.

Chara slumped back onto their friends’ arms and decided to focus on getting their breath back for now. _Baby steps._ Their vision was spinning, stomach turning, head aching. They tried to think, but failed; everything blurring together, they didn’t even have the energy nor the will to lift their chin up from their chest. Their eyelids slipped closed and the light blue whiteness of Snowdin faded away. The pounding of their heartbeat blended in with the buzzing in their ears. 

“...RA! CHARA! OH NO!! ALPHYS, WHAT DO WE DO?? THEIR INSIDES HAVE EVACUATED! DO WE PUT IT BACK?” Above them, Papyrus eyed the depression in the snow, made by warm liquid hitting the ground, and adjusted his grip on the undersides of the human’s arms. 

A cool, clammy hand slapped Chara’s cheek, trailing the hard yet dulled tips of claws behind them. Chara shook their head slightly and looked up, eyes drooping in exhaustion. 

“Ch-Chara!” Alphys hastily retreated her hands from either side of the human’s face. “What -- what happened? W-w-we gotta… gotta get you inside, I’ll give you a check-up --”

“ALPHY!!!!”

All three of them jumped at the furious roar in the distance. The two monsters looked around, searching for the source of the voice and the rhythmic, metallic clanking of something that sounded like footsteps. The human themself barely noticed the cry.

“PAPYRUS! GET BACK!! THEY’RE ATTACKING YOU!!”

“U-U-Undyne??!!”

“UNDYNE!!!” Papyrus yelled, delighted. 

A blue fish monster -- _Ultimate Undyne?_ \-- suddenly leaped up from Angel-knows-where and dropped down right in front of them, dressed to the nines in full Royal Guard armour -- 

“Mum??” Chara cried in shock, the surprise making them push Papyrus away. As soon as the skeleton’s arms stopped being their pseudo-crutches, however, they immediately wobbled on their feet and wavered. Alphys caught them -- well, more like struggled to pushed up against their shoulders, narrowly missing their wound. Papyrus helped bring the human back to an upright position after. 

“I ain’t your mommy, punk,” the warrior in question took off their helmet and shook her fiery red hair out as she did so. A glowing blue spear twirled into existence above her head and pointed itself at Chara's heart. A fierce frown marred her otherwise familiar face. “How in the five regions of the Underworld -- Papyrus, did you do this? ...Um, great -- job??” 

She smiled, but the expression was strangely forced and overcome with shock. 

“NO!” Papyrus yelled, rather taken-aback. “OF COURSE NOT! UNDYNE, THIS HUMAN IS THE GOOD ONE! DO NOT WORRY!”

“Good one?” she snarled, as scary in real life as she was dazzling on television. Chara couldn’t quite stop themself from thinking that Azzy would have a field day if he knew about this. “What are you talking about? They just tried to attack you by _puking_! Humans have acid puke! Right, Alphys?”

“W-what?” Alphys stuttered, face getting redder by the minute. “Um, yes? Oh! No! I mean, yes, they do, but it’s not an attack! That wasn’t an attack!”

“Promise, ’Dyne,” Chara agreed, realising their slip a moment too late but then ignoring it in hopes that the others would follow their lead. They spit at the snow, trying to get rid of the god-awful taste in their mouth. They pretended not to see nor taste the blood on their tongue as a result of the ruptured blisters on the inside of their lips. “‘m a friend. Here to stop that distorted mirror -- erm, the evil human just as much as anybody.”

“Really, now?” Undyne huffed and peered into the tool shed as per the request of Alphys’ spastic gestures. What she saw appeared to placate her -- or at least, placate her spear, which fizzled out reluctantly into midair. Frowning even deeper, she threw her helmet off to the side, where it disappeared into a stray snow poff. "But you're ill. Very ill. You can't fight in this state!"

"Did soldiers take sick days during the war?" Chara challenged. Unbeknownst to everyone else, they were watching the fish monster for her reaction, gauging how different she could be from the one they know. 

They expected something along the lines of a hurt flinch. What they got was a laugh. A good, long, throwing-her-head-back laugh. Alphys looked lost and Papyrus tightened his hands on their shoulder, but the human knew it wasn't needed. Chara smiled at Undyne, for once welcoming the sense of deja vu they got instead of merely tolerating or ignoring it. 

"I like your style, punk!" she chortled, her loud barks of laughter finally dying down. Her armour _shing_ -ed faintly as she moved to wipe a tear from her one uncovered eye. "So you wanna be a soldier, huh? You know what they do?"

"Defend!" Chara said, matter-of-fact. 

“You're damned right we do,” she growled, snarl so wide it almost looked like a smile. “ANY FRIEND OF ALPHYS AND PAPYRUS IS A FRIEND OF MINE. LET’S GET YOU HEALED, YA PUNK! Alphys, shouldn’t we be at your lab or at least somewhere closer to the capital?”

“Uhm, yes? But --”

“Then hold on tight!” She yelled merrily, and suddenly Chara was sitting on her left shoulder guard. Alphys was likewise carried on her hip. “Papyrus! This is where your track training comes into play!”

Papyrus looked so excited, Chara didn’t have the heart to protest. They swallowed their complaints. “ROAD TRIP!” he crowed. “WAIT! LET ME PACK SOME SUPPLIES!”

He ran into the house and there were a few seconds filled with nothing but ruckus. The rest could see spaghetti splattering against the inside of the kitchen windows. He ran back out then, with what looked like a bundled-up picnic blanket slung over his shoulder. 

Before anyone could say anything, however, the tall skeleton entered the tool shed and threw something at the human inside excitably, shouting, “HERE’S A PUZZLE BOOK, SO YOU DO NOT GET TOO LONELY, HUMAN! WE ARE GOING ON A TRIP, SO BE GOOD. DO NOT WORRY ABOUT FOOD; I WILL BE BACK HOME BY DINNERTIME, I PROMISE.” It sounded like the one hundred-something-page book had hit the evil human with perfect aim, judging by the audible hearty smack and the thud of someone falling over. “GOODBYE!”

Then he quickly stepped back outside, waving at the dog. (It woofed that it liked the cutscene -- good for stopping other people’s dialogue! Nobody heard it though.)

“I’M READY!” He crowed.

“ALRIGHT!” Undyne jostled both of her unwilling passengers and turned to face east. “Get ready! Set!! GO!”

They set off in the direction of Waterfall.

\--

Sans clutched at the sleeves of his lab coat as he watched the live feed on the monitor anxiously. He had put on his old lab coat as soon as he set foot outside of the elevator and into the True Lab, without realising it. Combined with the fact that he still technically has partial ownership of the True Lab, he wasn’t sure what that said about him or his ability to let go of the past, especially since he was sure he didn’t have any rolled-up clothes in his pockets today. Maybe on another day, sure. But not today.

The kid’s condition seem to be worsening. He had to work fast.

He walked over to the narrow landing over which the DT machine hung, humming a soft tune to keep Lemonbread happy all the while. They hummed back and stayed away. 

The twenty-year-old chute beneath him was dark enough to seem almost black at first glance. Despite this, above it, the skull-shaped machine was perfectly visible as being a metallic, blood-curling red -- the colour of the substance it was said to extract. It was held up with nothing but tubes and wires that reached off into a hole in the ceiling and out of sight. It was more intimidating now than the last time Sans saw it, in nothing but condemned blueprints.

The machine -- a constant reminder of inter-personal neglect and mistakes and bad memories -- had been shut down hastily, intended to never be used again whether for its true purpose or for scrap. The monitor that came with it is also far too outdated to be of any use. Whenever he came close to it, it would only say two lines of text. **‘DT EXTRACTION MACHINE’** and **‘STATUS - INACTIVE’**. It might as well have been a piece of paper.

Welp, that was fine either way. He wasn’t here to turn it back on, at any rate.

He didn’t need to. 

Sans looked down at the dizzying abyss below, and the railing-less edge of the narrow bridge that kept him from falling into it. Taking a deep breath, he dangled a slipper-ed foot over it and let it fall. 

The white light in his right eye extinguished completely whilst the other flared a bright blue. Magic kept him up. His own magic. Sans took another deep breath and floated himself over the machine’s back panel, hidden from those who don’t know exactly what to look for. 

He had no doubt that before, during the last time this lab had been bright and sterile and proper, up and running like a real laboratory should be, there would be a safer way to get to it. A platform that could be moved around with hydraulics, maybe. If he stopped keeping the place in power-saving mode, perhaps he could find it.

“but right now I’ve got more _pressing_ matters to attend to,” he muttered to himself, then murmured something in WingDings. “like saving the kid. any _lugnut_ could see that.”

Sans placed the pad of his thumb finger bone over a tiny circular hole in the metal panels, blocking a faint laser line and prompting the panel to rise from the rest of the machine. Already, an ominous red light was shining in slivers through the cracks at the sides. With a grunt, he hooked his fingers behind it and wrenched it open. 

A single tiny flask awaited him inside, nestled snugly in a compartment casted just for it. Top to bottom, it was barely bigger than his palm. To make room for the specialised alcove, a layer of glass above it crammed up tubes and pipes and wires up to the rest of the machine. Only a single tube was let through, and once upon a time its end might’ve lead straight to the flasks’ mouth, but now it ran dry and thankfully, the opening of this particular glass container was sealed tight with a rubber stopper.

Yeah, like normal rubber and glass was going to stop Determination.

If anything at all, the substance reminded Sans of a description of the Philosopher’s Stone, except in semi-liquid form. It was thick and goopy, like what it made monsters become if given carelessly, and strikingly bright red -- glowing, even, which wasn’t surprising. Like all forms of magic especially in the form of the concentrated extract Alphys’ machine had made, it exuded light and heat generously. Sans could practically feel the raw energy rolling off of it in waves, but the specialised glass should hold it well enough. It had contained it for this long. 

It was the vial containing the last of the substance pure enough to be used. The rest of the stock had already been modified and experimented on, made impure in an attempt to lessen the catastrophic effect of DT on a monster’s Soul. Sans had no idea what was in each batch exactly and didn’t have the time to do the research nor the willingness to find out through experimentation on the human. 

Sans picked it up and was more grateful than ever at the fact that his fingers couldn’t feel too much heat. He held it gingerly in his hands, knowing full well the track record of capula in handling tiny items, and for once was completely serious in making his way back to solid metal floors. 

Oh sweet, sweet solid ground.

His slippers muffled his steps as he deactivated his magic and dropped down neatly back on his feet. His eyes returned to their normal white spots after a split-second of total darkness in both sockets. He hadn’t had a workout like that in forever (or at least since the last two Resets, according to the reports). That needed to change if this genocide route was going to go anything like all the others that had come before it.

But of course, already, it was proving to be anything but.  
Huffing a breath, Sans walked over to the nearest monitor and switched on again the live feed of Snowdin’s streets as he cradled the miniscule flask to his chest. Oh, Undyne was here, and she seemed to have if nothing else taken a liking to the kid, if 'taken a liking to’ meant ‘not attacked’. Papyrus wasn’t with them, but the spaghetti being splattered against the inside of their kitchen windows told him that all was well, at least for now. 

In the other room, he had repurposed a medical bed into a workbench. On it were several metal tidbits, precisions tools and equipment, and syringes. Broken ones, spare ones, and a few made of the toughest material in all of the Underground that he had been lucky enough to come across.

Some of the syringes he had tried to use before had broken already upon contact with the _modified_ version of DT, and now littered the bench and the floors beneath it with glittering grains of glass and larger, sharper pieces. Sans absentmindedly swatted the most recent one off of the surface of the bed and into a hidden corner of the room. 

He didn’t have the security of looking into records or tapes to find out what was going to happen next. Literally anything could go. That realisation filled Sans with a weirdly reckless feeling, in place of where he would have expected to be overly conscious of every event taking place around him.

But presently, he made it this far, sterilised a syringe made of metallic glass that was sure to be able to withstand direct contact with DT... and he wasn’t quite sure what to do with it now.

Can humans even receive Determination from another human? Especially if it was taken forcefully from them? He didn’t know, and he was pretty sure nobody else knew either. And how was he supposed to administer it, exactly? Ingestion? Injection? As a lotion, even? Humans were stronger than Monsters, but by Angel were they so bothersome at times. 

Sans set the flask down so he wouldn’t shatter it accidentally and growled in frustration. He wished there was a handbook on how to handle humans. 

\--

They wished there was a handbook on how to beat this stupid section of the route. 

They paced around the tiny room, counting their steps as they did so. Eight steps along the north windows, turn, ten steps against the east wall, turn, eight steps against the south wall, turn, ten steps along those accursed bars, turn, and repeat. There was ambiance present other than their footsteps -- the whistling of the winds entering the wood in icy wisps, the crackling of the fire and the rhythmic swinging of the axes -- but they were nothing that stood out, nothing grounding. Now the thumps of their shoes against the floor, that was something they could control. That was something they knew.

_The storm picked up outside and soon the night was filled with frightful howls and monstrous claps of thunder. The windmill was starting, the force of the gales and the rain that followed them enough to push against the blades some. The flour-making stones moved a bit then stopped. Then they moved some more, skittering and stuttering against each other. The sound this produced sounded far from the normal, steady grinding, and instead was deafening, beastly, and, to Chara’s young mind,_ alive.

They didn’t like this. Didn’t like it at all. They were stuck here. Imprisoned, confined to more than their body but less than the whole of the Underground. It was infuriating. It was shameful. It was --

_In the darkness the small child cried as they dragged themself over to where they remembered the door to be, trembling violently in fear and cold. Their legs were shaking too much to be of any use. ”Let me out! Please! Please don’t leave me in here! It’s scary! You're wrong, I don’t like it! I don’t like the darkness at all!”_

\-- boring, and they absolutely _hated_ boredom. 

_It was dark. So, so dark. And cold._

They wrapped their arms around themself and shivered, wishing for all the world that their sweater was just a little bit thicker. But thicker meant heavier, and they couldn’t have that. Not if they wanted to fight. Not if they wanted to survive. 

_“PLEASE!” they screamed, voice guttural from the strain. Their fists hurt from pounding on the door so much, but it didn’t matter. The exit wasn’t budging. “I’m sorry! Please, let me out! I promise I won’t steal from the silos ever again!”_

The need to make progress, to kill, to travel, _to do something_ was thrumming within their very blood, pulsing brightly within their Soul and making them just that much more Determined.

_“I’m not a demon, I swear!”_

That was it, they were going crazy being stuck in here. They needed to think, but these annoying old memories resurfacing were keeping them from that. Or perhaps the problem was that they were thinking too much and needed to stop.

_Their fists hurt, and when they slid their hands down the wood in defeat, they felt wet. They were fighting for breath now, sobbing so hard they could barely inhale. The rain carried on pouring outside, the roar of water against tiled roofing masking their anguished cries. They were going to die. They were going to die. They were going to die._

They hadn’t slept at all. Maybe that contributed to these flashbacks they were having. But they couldn’t now. Not when opportunity was obviously right here in front of them. A timer was ticking down and it ends either with them getting out of the tool shed or when their wardens came back. They had been relying on Flowey to get them out before, but it appeared he’s cut off for now.

_Chara threw their head back and screamed._

A bitter smile graced their face as they thought about how THEY were doing. The other them. They might had been doing the same things over and over again expecting different results (and they did get a different result this time) but they weren’t stupid; from Sans’ dialogue, they knew vaguely about the other worlds. But they had to admit, this was the first time they had met another version of them face-to-face, and of course it was just their luck that THEY decided that they hated everything about them. How long has it been since their fight? How long would it be until their due death? Until they never hear another threat spoken from the-other-them’s mouth? Shame.

_“Let me out! Please, just let me out…!”_

So perhaps the curse was unnecessary. It didn’t matter; soon, they would be free, with everyone else. If they were really a version of them, they would understand that better than anyone else. They would understand that they deserved the pain they were getting. They deserved it.

_But nobody came._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some tidbits in the Undyne scene makes a lot more sense in my head because I have my version of how SS!Chara and SS!Undyne met, and also SS!Undyne's backstory, and basically I have my own idea of how the Storyshift Universe even came to be and where it deviated from Canon. If you're reading this from the future, I should have another work under my profile that would explore that a bit (for those reading this soon after I post this chapter, it come in around... three days?)  
> Oh, and also, welcome the tag 'Chara has a backstory' yayy.  
> \--
> 
> goodygoody19, Linkthetoa, thank you both! Also, I can now spell both of your names without looking back at your comments because you two are so generous with your comments oh my. Hahaha!
> 
> thesilverdreamer, hopefully some of Canon!Chara's thoughts at the end of this chapter cleared it up a little? SS!Chara hadn't physically eaten buttercups recently, but are now experiencing the symptoms because of the magical wound on their torso (that sounds stupid when I simplify it like that, heh). Sorry if I wasn't being clear!
> 
> The_Master_of_La, Did you read my responses to my other comments? Because that's kind of amazing and if you did that then take my love. And if you didn't do that then take my love anyway, haha. Thank you for the kind words, and I'm sorry we have different headcanons; they can still be true, as Papyrus said. Speaking of, at times I like it when he is portrayed to be 'innocent', but I personally believe him to not be dumb, so that's tiny bit of cynical behavior is there. Also, some of your questions helped me with a few writer's blocks I had on this chapter so thank you (if you can tell)!
> 
> Lucid+Lucy, this is a book?? Hahaha, thank you so much either way!


	7. Not in a world without you.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Each miss their best friend very much.
> 
> Also, misconceptions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm bad with titles. Really bad. Forgive me for the math references.  
> Also, is the VoltraTheLively that kudos'd me real? (internal fangirling)

The deep and dark caverns of the watery region felt deeper and darker this time around. Chara suspected it might have to do with the fact that they had barely seen any monsters at all. Most were in hiding, Papyrus explained over his shoulder as he inevitably ended up leading the way while Undyne was happy enough to follow right at his heels (it wasn’t that she couldn’t go faster; she just decided not to). Those who weren’t had evacuated, and here all three of them spent a bit of time praising Alphys, for she had been the one to design the updated emergency shelter plan the Monsters were now following. 

The air was terse, filled only with the sounds of water rushing, dripping, crashing and raining down on stone, as well as their breaths and Papyrus’ footsteps, as well as Undyne’s armour. Every once in a while, Chara could hear faint whispers, not unlike the hushed gossiping chatters of a crowd. They knew it was the flowers meaning no harm at all. Still, trying to decipher the noise was aggravating their headache to levels they didn’t need at the moment, so the human closed their eyes against the voices and ignored them.

Chara had mixed feelings about Waterfall. On one hand, there was the beauty of the place, of the darkness that wasn’t suffocating and the cooling moisture that wasn’t uncomfortable. They remembered getting their fair share of being lost in this place when they were small, and once they got used to it, stopped crying and instead started exploring. Hours were spent peeking behind walls of water and walking through crystal-lit caverns, listening to flowers that whispered wishes, staring at grass that lit up beneath their feet and finding places that became their safe zones. They were never left in the dark here; not completely. Everything from the gem-speckled ceiling to the very waters glowed idyllic, calming cyan, filling them with peace and equanimity. It let them forget whatever headaches they would have at the time. 

Spelunking, some of the other humans had called it. Whatever it was, Chara missed it.

On the other hand, it was where Mum had once spent most of her time. 

Chara turned their head to the side, pretending to sightsee when they had in fact seen these caves hundreds of times before, and blanched. They hated that they had to use past tense.

Because now their mother was gone. Or at least, here’s version of her was. Killed in cold blood, by the creature-that-was-not-Frisk. Instead, Ultimate Undyne, the rockstar Chara had once thought they were at least acquaintances with, had taken her place, once again playing a warrior’s part in defending all of Monsterkind against attacking Humans. 

“Are you okay?” they whispered quietly to the Monster’s finned ears. Her pace faltered slightly in surprise but she recovered just in time as to not let anyone else notice. “Eventually you were going to fight the human, right? Weren’t you scared? I mean,” they hesitated, “you aren’t going to… freak out, are you? 

This Undyne pursed her lips together, shifting her grip on Alphys as to make her more comfortable. She looked like she was debating with herself on whether to give them an answer or not.

Eventually, she growled under her breath, quiet enough so only they could hear, “Look around, punk. We’re all freaking out. This was a neighbourhood, did you know that? Now it’s all empty.”

In all honesty Chara did know that. They had just refrained from focusing on the environment too much in hopes that it would stop their nausea from worsening. Undyne really needed to slow down. 

“Bear with it, punk,” she growled again, this time a little bit louder. They must had spoken aloud. “We’re going to the Hotland Lab and that’s that. Right, Alphy?”

_NO-O THE LAST THING I WANT TO DO IS TO DIRECTLY DEFY MY SUPERIOR_ was what yellow-scaled scientist screamed… inside her head. Outwardly she shook and focused on not following the human’s lead and hurling all over Undyne’s Royal Guard armour. 

Sans might be right. He might be right in thinking that the only possible way to save Chara was to -- well -- ‘pump the bad stuff out of them’ by using something else to push it out. It would be like filling a dirty fuel tank with water so that eventually the oil gets washed away completely. That ’something’ would _have_ to be much stronger than Monster magic -- strong enough to not disintegrate within Hatred’s overwhelming presence. Something like another form of human magic. Something like Determination.

And while he could be onto something, though he seemed so sure and so confident…

\-- Sans the skeleton could also be wrong. 

And if he was wrong and she was right, then Alphys was obligated to try and stop him from making a grave mistake. Not a good thing when her biggest deep-seated fear is of confrontations.

Undyne kept her conviction and did not slow down at all, but she did even out her steps so that the turbulence was less ravaging on the human’s weakened stomach. 

“You have someone to talk to here?” they mumbled into Undyne’s ear again. For some reason they genuinely doubted Sans and Undyne were very close to each other. She tensed but did not shut them out. 

“Whattaya mean?” 

“About the War?”

“UNDYNE, ARE WE TAKING A PIT STOP AT YOUR HOUSE?”

“Yes please,” Chara called out, cutting off any negatives anyone else would have been in the middle of saying. They shrugged. “Toilet break.”

The sounds of rushing water and clanking armour mingled together in ways that were painfully familiar, making them feel safe and unbothered and genuinely relaxed for the first time since arriving on the flipside. Chara did not intend to accept that their mother was dead, that Frisk had gone all evil, that they were stuck here for eternity -- not at all. 

Their lone voices echoed down the many nooks and crannies of the moist caverns before growing fainter and fainter and eventually fading away. It appeared all of the citizens had evacuated already. None of the others except for Chara looked surprised at this.

Undyne shook her head and muttered, “Why would I want to talk about the war? That’s something that happened almost a century and a half ago, kid. We Monsters don’t dwell on the past.”

“A c-century and a half?” they repeated, a spurt of energy allowing them to push themself up to a straighter position. “Wait, so, Dad’s -- err, Asgore’s grandfather lead the war against the Humans?”

“What? No!” Undyne spat, for once turning her head to speak to them face-to-face. “First off, it’s _King_ Asgore to you, you disrespectful brat!” She reached over with an arm, seemingly about to give them a noogie, but thankfully her fists turned out to not be detachable and she let it go soon after. “Secondly, no! Boss Monsters like Asgore can live for -- a very long time, under, um, certain circumstances. He led the War.” 

“He did?” Chara yelped, then stopped and listened intently as the echoes of their voice joined up with the natural metallic racket Undyne was making and traveled into the dark. “And he’s still,” their voice caught in their throat. Chara would have cleared it, except they were afraid they would like again if they did. “-- alive?”

“Yep.”

The group came upon a three-day fork in the road. It wasn’t the first time, but it was the first time the two runners split up. Undyne went straight while Papyrus turned right. 

He soon noticed this though and, without stopping, made a small circle and looped around to correct his mistake. 

“I know we usually go around the long way in your training, but this is a shortcut,” Undyne grinned toothily at the tall skeleton, gesturing vaguely at a small gap in the stone path ahead of them. The water in between was still and mirror-like, if mirrors glowed so brightly they were able to illuminate an entire cavern.

“I REMEMBER!” Papyrus yelled, bouncing in place. “THIS IS THE LITTLE BIRDY’S HOUSE!” Animatedly, he swiveled his skull on his neck, looking high and low. When he was happy, he straightened up and announced, satisfied, “IT IS SAFE!”

Chara and Alphys were placed on the ground gently. They exchanged knowing, dizzy looks, both looking slightly sickly. 

The lizard doctor was easily able to regain her footing, blushing immediately when she realised that Undyne was taking off pieces of her armour one by one. Meanwhile, Chara gave up completely after a couple of quivering steps and just sat down as they waited to be picked up again. The human crossed their legs, rested their elbows on their knees and pressed the heel of their palms against the pressure building behind their eyes.

Thinking was hard, but they tried their best. 

So Dad was King, they knew that. Ultimate Undyne was Mum. Mum was the voice behind the door. The voice behind the door was named Papyrus and he reminded them a lot of Asriel. Speaking of, Sans was, well, _them_ \-- the Snowdin sentry guard.

And them? This world’s Chara? They were busy trying to kill Sans every chance they got.

Chara threw their head back and gazed at the mock-sky. The rocks were so dark they looked almost completely absent but the crystals that shone, imbedded in their pseudo-nothingness, were visible as always. Twinkling brightly like stars. 

The human didn’t have a wish for them. They didn’t dare to. “Wonder what you’re doing right now, bro,” they whispered.

Baking? Worrying, maybe. He would be worried, if the story-tapes that Dad had found in the trash were lying and jumping into another world does not automatically slow down the time in the world before it. Because if they were true, and a whole week here meant an hour or two back home, then no one would have probably even noticed that they were gone yet. They could’ve died here without any of their family being none the wiser. 

And what about Asriel here? Chara smiled slightly as they thought about meeting him, about the bragging rights. Sans never mentioned anything about a second voice so he must be living with Dad, deep within the Capital in their own version of New Home. Was he the prince? Was he happy? 

Was he not their brother?

Chara wanted to deny that possibility as soon as they thought of it. No way. He said those dreams weren’t real. He promised! They were inseperable. Family ‘til the end, even through alternate universes.

A loud clattering sound made Chara jump and whip their head around, wide-eyed, to see Undyne’s armour, now dismantled into parts, in a pile far on the other side of the gap. She had fixed it all into one big, sharp metal ball and chucked the entire thing so far it skid and jumped and came undone into another room. 

It would make sense, Chara rationalised, as their wide eyes stared absently at their three new friends, who were lost in their own rowdy conversations at the moment. It looked interesting, but the human honestly couldn’t muster up enough of their brain function through their migraine to listen in _and_ keep their train of thought at the same time.

Two days ago they would never have thought that there would exist a world where they and Asriel, the two most inseparable siblings, weren’t living their lives together, but now they thought it might be the only possibility that made sense. 

Chara fell down.

Chara never met the Dreemurrs.

Chara was still filled with Hatred.

Bottom line, Asriel wasn’t their brother anymore.

Undyne picked them back up, but something had changed in the way she handled their squishy human body. More careful, somehow. It definitely felt a lot less uncomfortable, or maybe that was because she was now dressed in only a tanktop and form-fitting combat pants. Chara looked back and Papyrus gave them a happy thumbs.

The human dipped their head low but had a real sheepish smile on their face as they shrugged and mumbled, “Thank you, friend.” To who they were actually talking to, nobody was particularly concerned with clarifying.

Alphys and Papyrus were perfectly happy with stepping into the shallow waters, and after careful consideration, Undyne followed, instead of clearing the gap with one jump like Chara had (dreaded and) expected her to do. 

All sound faded away as the narrow path gave way to a big, solid cavern -- the first they had seen without water running through cracks on the floor or the walls. Stalactites and stalagmites formed a pillar in the middle of the room. 

They reached Undyne’s house.

Discomfort hit their midsection like a freight train. Chara shifted and pressed the sides of their forearms discreetly against their lower torso, face contorting horrified embarrassment. Something rumbled inside of them and they had a feeling it was more than harmless hunger.

“Off!” they pushed off Undyne to drop on the floor impatiently and caught themself on their feet. “Toilet?” they asked desperately.

“Uh --” Undyne exchanged looked with Alphys. She nodded and walked over to the only other door in the living room other than the entrance. “Yeah -- my room, then that door right there. Make it fa… I mean,” Alphys was making an expression at her that was a mix of everything from a shy pout to an expectant look. Chara didn’t stick around long enough to decipher her face completely, already having darted into the specified room. “T-take your time, I guess.”

\--

Dr Gertrude was a big, slime-type monster in a medical coat and blacked-out sunglasses that was always slipping off his . Some might call him blubberous, if he wasn’t a monster that didn’t actually have any fat to have in excess. His skin wasn’t a layer as it was also his flesh, cold and green and goopy. In addition to being halfway to full-on freezing, the doctor was also very, very late. And he knew it too.

He hefted his suitcase higher and with his other hand re-smoothed the parts of his face that had started dripping in his harried state. The time taken for three sloppy, huffy knocks is all it took for the doctor to realise that nobody was home. He knocked again. Nothing.

Gertrude huffed once again about that, but ultimately slumped his, well, everything in defeat. He slid a few feet back accidentally. It was against healer code to get angry at the patients, no matter how inconsiderate they may be. 

Well, what now? It was a long way back to the Capitol, and he didn’t think the Riverperson gave any more rides past Hotland, where he’d have to risk meeting his Brother the Janitor again. Angel knows that disappointment is all sorts of fun to be around.

Either way, Gertrude prided himself on being able to assess the severity of of a situation within the first thirty seconds, no matters through a middleman, through a phone, or both. And also, no matter how much of an egghead he had heard that Papyrus could be, he knew a real emergency when he heard it. Someone was hurt, and hurt badly, and he wasn’t about to go home with a clear conscience without seeing to their health first. What if they fell down? It didn’t happen often here in the Underground, with only a limited variety of things to kill beings of magic, but it happened. And though Gertrude had lost patients before; he didn’t intend to let it become a habit. 

He took out his cellphone and redialed, but the dial tone hadn’t even managed to make it to the end of the second ring before another sound took his attention away. 

Because he might be mistaken, and he very rarely was but that was a dog’s bark, high-pitched and calling. Gertrude whipped his eyes around on his neck as much as one could hope to whip slime, eyes wide as a monster in stripes’ behind his horn-rimmed glasses. 

“Could it be?” he said in a low voice, leaving a trail of green footprints as he backed onto and down the porch steps. His suitcase was left on the landing in front of the door. “Little buddy? You there?”

The sound repeated itself, confirming his suspicions, and the big hulking mound of a man that was Gertrude hopped up and down excitedly while slapping his hands together like a little girl. He grabbed his suitcase without looking at it and practically threw himself forward towards the sound.

There! The shed! Gertrude slammed the door open holding a bunch of dog treats on one hand. He held them so tightly some crumbled and fell partially to the snow, some escaped his fist and fell anyway, and some fell through his hand and became inedible. 

The human stopped trying to take their torn sweater sleeve back from the darned dog, but said mutt had stopped trying to tear it off anyways. It yipped happily, growling snarls on its snout becoming a dopey, happy-go-lucky grin in a heartbeat as it bounded over to the blind Monster and started eating the yellow, cartoon bone-shaped, red-ribboned treats right out of his hand.

It was now distracted.

“You!” a familiar voice hissed from their right. The window was now open and existing, and the golden flower was back. A thin green vine swayed from side to side in the window right outside the glass, beckoning. On the ledge were a pair of orange boxing gloves.

Chara walked over to them and equipped the weapons. Aa single punch was all it took to shatter the glass, and then they were outside and running toward the forest.

\--

Flowey didn’t know what to feel at the moment, and that was unusual since before, it was a miracle for him to actually feel anything at all other than boredom and a misshapen form of satisfaction most of the time.

But this? The yellow flower popped up a few feet from where _this_ human, the one he had seen first and always last, was running past. They darted behind trees and was lost to the shadows further down the pathless spaces, though Flowey wasn’t concerned. He could always feel their feet pounding against the ground through his roots. Speaking of, he could also hear that accursed dog giving up giving chase before it even began. Lazy thing; but fortunate. The flower dove into the ground.

Fear wasn’t the word for it. Not yet, not quite. He was unsure, yes, ever since… _this_ (They’re not Chara, maybe they are, they seem like Chara, maybe) _human_ fell down and took his ability to Reset and Reload away. But there was more.

Flowey popped back out just beside a tree before a piece of its bark was ripped off by an eager fist. The human seemed to be better at running than walking. They weaved their way through the woods, kicking up pebbles and sprays of earth-stained snow as they went. The trees here were thick enough to stop snowfall from ever touching the ground for over eight decades so there was very little trudging and more crunching, as those lithe steps left and crashed onto the ground rhythmically, very steady. It was almost like they were flying, arms out touching every tree they could, gripping onto others that they used to guide their momentum. They looked happy and it was very nearly contagious. Flowey cracked a faint ghost of a smile that was tainted with doubt. 

Then the human almost ran off a cliff.

Flowey popped up behind them and surged his vines forward, wrapping them around their middle and catching the damned fool before their feet could leave the edge. 

“YOU IDIOT!” he shrieked, loud enough to have his grating, high-pitched voice echo down the chasm. Down there, a certain jointless Monster probably heard that, but for all Flowey cared at the moment that person could go lick a frozen candy cane. 

The three vines -- his limbs -- around the human shuddered and slipped just an inch around each other, making him grunt. Drops of sweat dotted around his face.

The human’s body was suspended over the sheer drop, completely at a forty-five degree angle with their feet on the crumbling rocks as the pivot and their reaction was nothing. Flowey didn’t know why but that unnerved him more than it should; he at least expected an off-guard scream, some frantic wheeling of the arms… 

But this just is further proof. This one had to be Chara, right?

It was slow-going but eventually he managed to get their centre of mass over the side of the rocky outcrop, after which they both fall over, one of exhaustion, the other because the vines had thrown them towards the safer side of the fringe after it was deemed that their job was done. They were at the forest’s borders now, under the thinner, sparser trees. There was more snow here.

“Slow down next time,” he chided half-heartedly, breath slightly heavier. “You can’t afford to be Reloading all the way back to yesterday. I know you haven’t Saved since then, so…” He straightened back his stem and gave the rock face a hesitant once-over. “I won’t be here next time to keep yourself from…” He cleared his throat, or at least made a sound as if to clear his throat before remembering that he didn’t have a throat. “...wasting time.”

There was the telltale sound of the human getting up. It appeared that their time in the toolshed had improved their skill in staying on their feet.. Their head wasn’t tilting to the side anymore, at least. 

A ruffling breeze passed by and blew strands of their hair, darker than what he was used to, into their face.Their steps moved to the edge and stayed there. Another wind, stronger, colder, buffeted against the sides of the precipice and for a terrifying second Flowey thought the human was going to be blown away, just like that. A half-second whisper of shoes leaving the dirt and snow and that was it. 

He really wasn’t ready to look at them, not now, not while he didn’t have enough evidence. That’s it, think methodically. None of that _feelings_ shmuck. 

Why was he doing this?

“You know the deal. South, this time, and East. Always East.” He shook his petals. “I’ll... see you later.” Flowey buried himself into the cold hard rock.

\--

Bonus:

"Hey, Papyrus," Undyne asked while halfway into unbuckling her breastplate. "Why didn't you pick up my calls like you use to? I know you always keep your phone charged during nighttime so no way the battery died in the middle of the day. You, damn it," She let her shoulder guards fall to the smooth, if rather uneven ground below, and flexed her arms. Alphys made a strange, strangled noise in the corner. "You really made me worried, you know that!?"

"OH?? I THOUGHT YOU KNEW! I HAVE DIFFERENT PHONES DEDICATED TO ALL MY FRIENDS!!" Papyrus explained, loud enough that he might've been telling all of Waterfall through the echoes. "ONE FOR SANS, ONE FOR YOU AND ONE FOR EVERYONE ELSE."

"And you don't have my phone on you at all times?" Undyne teased. Though her words were threatening, her tone and honestly flattered expression suggested otherwise. But the skeleton didn't notice that.

"ERM!" Papyrus diverted his eyes and made as if to stop talking nervously. The clicking sound of his jaw snapping together could even be heard, though that wasn't absolutely special since he usually rattled whenever he moved anyways. The next second he was talking to Alphys, "I SUPPOSE BOTH YOU AND THE HUMAN CURRENTLY FALL UNDER THE CATEGORY OF 'EVERYONE ELSE' AT THE MOMENT. REMIND ME TO CHANGE THAT SOMETIME SOON."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I personally have no problem writing out an experience on the pooper but I know most of you would probably have a problem reading about bloody diarrhoea so here's the low-down: **SS!CHARA NOW RECOGNISES THAT THEIR SICKNESS IS NOT NATURAL AND NOT JUST A SYMPTOM OF A REALLY BAD INFECTION**. Cause before they and Alphys already knew about the Hatred but didn't know exactly what it did besides stopping the wound from healing up... Kay.  
>  Have I mentioned that this story is going to be very slow? I'm slow-paced and I like my descriptions, sorry.  
> Also for those wondering, this will hopefully not happen again. What happened was that I ran out of pre-written chapters and then I went on a family vacation so had to devote my attention to that. But now my baby brother is in school again so I should be free for a while.  
> \--
> 
> goodygoody19, Hm? What's that you say? Something about a goatchild-turned-evil-flower? Nah, I don't think I've seen -- oh wait there.
> 
> Linkthetoa, Sans is ready to do whatever he perceives to be for the greater good. By pure chance I think Voltra's and my take on Chara's past seems to match up? But yeah, UT and SS!Chara's pasts diverged somewhere, and we have yet to see how...
> 
> Callii, honestly I'm always very lost about the general tone of a scene, what makes sense for characters to be doing and saying, etc (a problem with letting things write itself), and people liking Undyne's dialogue makes me really happy, so thanks! I can't see SS!Chara doing nothing either. They'll find the lab eventually, don't worry, though the extent of what they'll do will probably be affected by what they _can_ do in their crippled state. Don't worry about reviewing, by the way! Getting to know you and the other readers is absolutely amazing but you shouldn't feel like saying something is an obligation rather than a want. :)
> 
> The_Master_of_La, you have no idea how much I appreciate you doing that, reading my sidenotes and stuff. I do think at times I get so caught up in slowing down my pace that the paragraph becomes convoluted or unclear (as demonstrated by your edits, haha) so I try to clear some things up in the notes but only one-two people read them so... heh, thanks for being one of those two people! Those are really kind words, and I've got a lot planned for this story honestly so hopefully I can see it to the end. Many Charas are different but one thing almost always stays the same: When they first met Asriel, they hate humanity. You, you understand why Undyne is awesome. Awesome. SS!Chara is a small sensitive child that needs to be handled with care; unfortunately, they were being carried by Undyne. Mirror is being referred to as BOTH 'Frisk' and 'Chara' is intentional btw. The yellow was Flowey as he disappeared soon after, and he's just confused on who to help at this point really. He just wants to help. Mirror's not the expressive angry type; they're just happy they can progress with the route now. Get some rest, man. Hahaha.
> 
> ChipPotato, thank you! I know I say that to a lot of people but I really do mean it.


	8. THEIR OPINION OF YOU IS VERY... MURDERY.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a reason for this fillery chapter I promise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: So sorry! The format should be fixed now. goodygoody19, thank you for bringing that to my attention. No, the italics was NOT on purpose.

01 never paid much attention to assemblies or the early morning pep talks other than to shout and holler and grunt at the correct moments. To him, they were like classes in school, if classes back then were more than half filled with dogs (not that he had a problem with that but sometimes they could be really loud) and had only about a dozen people in it. Louder, slightly funner classes, with a teacher that he actually respected. And also they talk about things other than History and Maths. And they learnt outdoors most of the time, and there were no desks or chairs, and they never actually learn anything new on a normal basis.

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t like school at all. 

But despite this, despite having nothing to show for his attention span but the ability to draw 02’s pecs from memory, 01 was able to take away something from all of those training meets and drills.

How could he not? They had to know it to even apply to become a member of the Royal Guard, and after being accepted, it would be ingrained into their heads.

The three main purpose of their elite group of guards.

“To defend the Underground,” he muttered out of the blue, pounding the butt of his sword against the side of the bunker entrance. A few Monsters jumped at the sudden banging but 01 played it off, smiling charmingly at them and puffing his chest out. He wasn’t sure if they would be able to see his expression behind his mask so he announced at the top of his lungs, “To protect our fellow Monsters!”

A few children threw their hands up -- their way of cheering now, they weren’t upbeat enough for much else -- and the line continued to move. 01 bit his lower lip from under his helmet and glanced at his partner from the corner of his eyes.

Err, that is, partner in a strictly work-related sense. 

He hollowed out his cheeks and exhaled under his breath, “And to search for humans to bring Souls to Asgore Dreemurr.”

“Our king,” his best friend agreed. In his gloved hands he was holding a smaller, portable version of the console present in the Royal Doc’s lab. It showed live feed from cameras all the way from the tunnel that signified the transition between Waterfall and Hotland. To be honest, 01 had been a little bit creeped out when the Doc first showed them about the secret cameras hidden all around Underground, but now he was glad for her forethought. Although the screen showed all empty terrain for now.

Man, his bro always knew what to say.

The entrance to the Underground bunker -- well, it was called a bunker but it was easily at least the size of another region -- was a giant arch reaching over their heads, doors wide open and pushed outwards to welcome the terrified citizens inside. There they would walk through the giant tunnel and be welcomed into one of the many halls inside, each the size of a sports stadium but with a shorter ceiling, from which multicoloured tents and heavy tarps hung to give people still their sense of privacy. 01 and 02 stood at the right side of the entrance ushering people in while 03 and 04 stood at the other.

Speaking of which, the girls, 03 and 04, still weren’t talking to each other but at least they were managing to act professional, nodding curtly at and encouraging calm within the current batch of people trickling into the already crowded bunker. The quiet actually made them look and feel stronger, cooler, more like the elites they were supposed to be. They played the part of formidable warriors well. 

02 clasped his hand around 01’s suddenly, bringing his train of thought to a screeching halt.

“Someone.”

“Someone?” 01 squeaked -- _ehem_ , grunted. 

02 affirmed by way of stabbing the tip of his sword into the ground and tapping madly at the handheld console. The cameras changed and indeed 01 caught a glimpse of _something_ moving before it darted away again, out of range. 

“03, 04!” 01 shouted, forgetting to hide the panic from his voice. The Monsters before him snapped their eyes up to look at them in fear, muttering, asking what was going on. “Call Doge! Someone’s, like, totally in the cams, dudes!”

04 wrestled the phone away from 03, knowing that her furry paws wouldn’t be ableto dial quickly. The feline Monster squawked indignantly but in the end cooperated, instead redirecting her attention and efforts to calming the masses down. 

“ _I think it’s the human.”_

_“The human?! Coming here?”_

_“But then -- That means…!”_

They both did, as their respective partners worked on keeping the larger threat in view. 01’s heart pounded so hard inside his breastplate he was afraid it would start to echo. His palms were sweaty inside his gloves and he could see 03’s must be as well because she took off her gauntlets. He wasn’t exactly sure why he noticed this in the middle of gently ushering a distraught mother and her child indoors. 

After that he had to do his best to calm a borderline-hysterical fire Monster down before she burned the people around her. A couple of highschool students he recognised asked him what was going on and he had to lie. 

Man, he never thought he’d feel so scared after joining the Royal Guards. 

And then there was a yell. 04’s chattering, accented voice, yelling over the cacophony of increasingly panicked voices and cutting through the background ambience of the bubbling lava flow. 

“It’s not the human!” she shouted, jubilant. A hush of relief seemed to rustle through the crowd's still outside, and those who were walking through the middle of the entrance tunnel hall as well. They were all waiting to hear what 04 would say next.

There was some muffled, static-layered barking from the phone’s, receiver, then 04 translated for anyone who couldn’t understand.

“It --” she paused. The silence lasted for only a few breaths, but the agitated people (including 01) interpreted in many different ways. “I -- It’s Doge’s cousin?”

“It’s who?”

Like a superhero, a yap brought all of their eyes up simultaneously. Above the bunker entrance, perched on an impossibly small precipice that was just conveniently right at the center of the scene, was a small white dog. He smiled coyly at them and jumped. A few people yelled like they thought he was going to land on their heads, and 01 could feel 02 tense up beside him to stop that from happening but their fears were unfounded. The dog landed at their feet, completely serious-looking (if a puppy could look serious) and barking.

“A part of the Snowdin Canine Division?” 03 uttered in disbelief. 

“...No,” 02 answered quietly. He handed the handheld screen to 01 and kneeled in front of the dog. The girls realised suddenly that the previously trickling crowd had come to a complete standstill and not only were they very curious as to what was going in, but the Monsters already inside the bunker were peeping out as well. Jumping into action, the once-best friends herded the last of the bunch indoors and 01, 02 and the small white pup were left the only ones outdoors in no time. 

According to schedule, they should be on their way back out to search for any more Monsters who are willing to hide. 

But instead, 03 and 04 came back to find the dog gone and 01 yelling at his phone.

\--

None of the Monsters present honestly thought they should be spending so much time in one place right now, not when they had left _them_ so alone and unattended. But it couldn’t be helped. The sole reason they had left Snowdin in the first place was unwilling to rejoin them outside.

The front door was open, letting Papyrus’ nonsensical, loud, though assumingly pleasant conversation with their training dummy be heard throughout the whole house. His travel-bundle had been opened and now lay dangerously close to the table edge, its insides scattered carelessly over the wood. He did take one thing with him outside though -- some medium-sized piece of fabric that he seemed to be casually working on.

His voice as well as the dummy’s shrill replies clashed rather deafeningly with the strained tones of Undyne’s merciless onslaught on the piano keys. Alphys sat at the dining table fiddling with her phone, trying to work up the motivation to post a status update. 

The longer she stayed there in one place, with nothing to distract her but the empty template on her phone’s little screen, the larger the feeling in her conscience grew. It wouldn’t leave her be, whispering every so often that if she didn’t do anything now, letting Sans do whatever he wanted with the human would just be added to the list of failures that made up her very being. 

With or without the friends that were with her now, she had to at least _try_ to stop Sans. He was taking the optimistic chance, she had to provide the rationale. Chara was a good Human -- scratch that, Chara was a good child. They deserve more than to be the subject of either of their curiosity. 

When the cheery chime rang through the room, all three Monsters -- the Mad Dummy not included -- took a breath of anticipation and held it. 

They met each other’s eyes.

Exhaling, Undyne took out her phone from one of her pockets and brought it to her ear.

“Hello?”

“ _THEY’RE OUT, MISS UNDYNE!_ ”

\--

A lifetime and a half had passed by the time Chara had finished washing their hands in the bathroom. Even that costed them a few minutes spent zoning out about Mum’s own house in Waterfall and her shower with the stone walls. Here, instead of the shower it was the sink, which was carved straight out of the cave wall against which the house was built. That was pretty cool. 

They opened the door, wincing as they stepped, and immediately could tell that something was wrong. 

It was far, far too quiet. 

Chara walked out into Undyne's bedroom, not bothering to look around much. It was similar to her old house back in their own universe -- brightly lit and very blue. With a little patterned lamp on the corner table.

“Guys?” 

No answer. Maybe they couldn’t hear them through the closed door.

Breathing through their nose, Chara clutched an arm over their abdomen as they walked over to the door, then let it fall as they opened it assuming their friends were on the other side. 

“Hello?”

“YOU!” A deafening voice shrieked. 

Chara stumbled over their feet and fell, yelling in surprise. In their face was an angry face -- a very stuffy, very creasy, very angry face, that rocked-slash-hopped its way through the door and almost crushed their left foot in the process. The human gathered themself on their feet.

“YOU!!!” Mad Dummy yelled again, drawing out the single word so that it sounded like an accusation. 

“Me,” Chara affirmed. What felt like a pin, or maybe a bedbug bite, poked somewhere on their back. They ignored it for the most part but shifted so the coarse fabric of the hoodie would scrape against it, nulling the itch.

“YES, YOU! YOU’RE THE REASON I’M STILL HERE!” he fumed. His levitating head swung every which way, beady plastic eyes wide and smeared slightly red, as if bloodshot. 

“You’re still here,” the human observed. Their wound smarted and they ducked their head. 

The stuffed mannequin stopped moving long enough to say, “Well, maybe because I said it was okay. BUT STILL!! I HAVE TO LOOK AFTER _YOU_!!”

Alarmed, Chara asked, “What? Wait, where’s Undyne?”

“Emergency situation. All hands on deck,” he hissed harshly, eyes shifting from side to side. “As CAPTAIN of the Royal Guard, she has to be out there keeping things from going out of control.” He scoffed, wobbling on his stand to face the side. “As if things had ever been IN control in the first place. The skeleton went with her… and I heard something about that GIRL going to turn on some offline cameras or something -- Wait. WHY. Am I telling you this?” he snapped suddenly. “Grr… IMBECILE, IMBECILE, IMBECILE!!!”

He yelled at the other smaller dummies that had materialised behind him out of the house and they disappeared from view, and even after that he continued to yell from the doorway. If he had arms, he would be shaking fists. 

Rather perturbed but unshaken (if anything Chara was a bit amused, maybe slightly nostalgic at the Dummy’s presence), the human stood and made their way into the living room, where they found the piano bench overturned, and the front door still wide open. Granted, the latter detail might not mean anything as there was a Monster currently blocking the way of it closing but the bench told Chara their friends left in a haste.

“GRR! YOU!” the Dummy turned to them suddenly, head, upper torso and leg swiveling in different directions. He grumbled, “I could be doing something ELSE right now, you know? …But then again, she promised me double pay for this later -- HUMAN! GO DO HUMAN THINGS! NOW!”

“What?” Chara rubbed their palms against their shoulders, trying to subtly reach a slightly itchy spot on their left shoulder blade. Good thing too, as Mad Dummy chose that moment to start pushing them back towards the bedroom with his head repeatedly. It worked, but it wasn’t exactly the most gentle of methods. “N -- Wait! Tell me first, what’s this ‘emergency situation’? Shouldn’t I be out there instead of staying --”

“AND DO WHAT? You dummy!!” he gave them the stink-eye. “Futile! Futile futile! You get into bed and drink some soup!”

“Just some water would be ice,” Chara said without thinking. Both they and the Mad Dummy froze in their tracks.

“Hmmm,” he steamed.

“Sorry, just trying to lift your spirits.”

“HMM.”

Chara pressed their knuckles to their lips in an effort to muffle their giggles. Huh, maybe puns weren’t so bad after all. 

The itch was back and it striked at different pinprick spots around Chara’s back, making them wince and twist in discomfort. Their right arm reached over and went under the hem of the oversized hoodie easily to scratch at the quickly forming rash, and even though it kind of hurt, the immense relief was pleasurable to the point of being addicting. They continued scratching.

Mad Dummy raised a felt, stitched eyebrow at them but otherwise headed back outside, grumbling loudly about ungrateful modern brats and how if he had any bodily fluids at all, he would spit in their cup. Chara’s smirk at the latter turned slightly sickly when they registered how fortunate they are that clothing mannequins aren’t the most organic vessels in the world. 

They sighed and sat on the bed, staring at the patterned ceiling. _Now, how to sneak outside without him noticing…?_ While thinking, they laid down on the bed, kicking their rubber shoes off to bring their feet up. They rolled over to a more comfortable position. 

A few minutes later found them lying in Undyne’s bed under the covers, dead to the world.

\--

Napstablook closed the blinds on the single window in his house and floated down his unnecessarily tall ceiling to stay in front of his computer. If anyone saw, his house would look dark and lifeless, which wasn’t that different to how it normally looked.

It may be bad (it definitely was bad) but his life hadn’t really changed much ever since the Underground alarm sounded. He kept UnderNet open on a tab and checked on it every once in awhile -- meaning once every few hours -- but other than that his little world continued to spin. Listen to music, lie down and do nothing, make music, lie down and do nothing, share music, lie down and do nothing, rinse and repeat. 

And if somebody were to break down his door and attack him, then so be it. 

That was what he was thinking as a loud thunderous knock actually almost threatened to take his front door clean off its hinges. At first the little ghost didn’t even notice, his headphones blocking the outside world. Napstablook continued to bob his Soul to the beat of the synths thumping in his head. 

But then his door did break.

“Huh?” Napstablook turned around and paused the track currently playing on his screen. 

“Yeah, NICE to see you too, cousin,” Mad Dummy growled, shimmying a foot over the horizontal plank of wood that was now all that was left of Napstablook’s door. That was him being apologetic. 

Napstablook wasn’t great at people but he noticed the dummy’s eyebrow being lower than usual, his movements more energetic, more anxious. He considered taking off his headphones to be polite but his arms wouldn’t materialise fast enough.

“Listen, one of my gunners got stuck in a sub-tunnel somewhere and I gotta go see what’s going on so she doesn’t sue me. But there’s a LITTLE problem.” A small bundle of sheets were dropped on the floor unceremoniously. It rolled open, one corner of the duvet landing just shy of his Spooktunes record, to reveal a semi-familiar shade of blue. “There’s THIS kid. And I’m supposed to be taking care of them. But -- you know. Busy. Busy! Busy! BUSY!!” he spazzed. “So --”A tuft of stuffing flew by his head, barely missing hitting anything at all. Mad Dummy whirled around to glare intensely at another dummy, who was now doing his best impression of a snail inside its shell. “Foolish. Foolish! FOOLISH! YOU INSOLENT DUMMY! WAIT UNTIL I HAVE FINISHED TALKING WITH BLOOKY!! So, cousin, can I drop them off here for just a little while?”

The shy ghost listed from side to side. “Um, I don’t know, Madden. Sorry… But I am pretty busy right now…”

“GREAT! Thank you! I’ll be back later. The gun is in the little bag. GOODBYE.”

And then he left, shamelessly leaving the door in its current pitiful state. Napstablook sighed, but what could be done? It wasn’t like he was able (or willing) to change the irritable dummy from who he was.

Instead, he nudged the unresponsive person lying spread-eagle on the duvet. They didn’t move. Skin, check, grin, cross. They were wearing his clothes, but Napstablook didn’t think this was the same skeleton person who showed up at Mettaton’s hotel to do shows sometimes.

Oh well. Napstablook thought about trying to close the door, perhaps prop it diagonally onto the frame or somewhat, but he didn’t do it. Instead he simply listed so far sideways he turned horizontal. Then he floated down onto the floor, staring at the ceiling. Beside his charge. His computer could wait.

Napstablook felt like absolute garbage at the moment. 

It was a while before the bundle still half-wrapped in sheets got up. And when they did, they forced Napstablook out of his trance as well. 

“W- what time is it? How long have I been gone?” they mumbled, voice laden with sleep. Rubbing a hand down their face, they suddenly cringed and threw the blanket off of them. Disregarding Napstablook completely, they hastily zipped down their own jacket and looked down at their now-bare chest. There was a black line, surrounded by yellow. And all around that was reddish pink and dry. “Ow, what --”

“Hello...” Napstablook accidentally interrupted them. Some might argue that it was for good reason; he had a feeling they were about to scream or something, from the way their face contorted and changed. But still, “Oh… I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to interrupt your freak-out…”

The other person didn’t answer, just stared at him wide-eyed, breathing slightly more laboured than normal as they gripped the cushiony fabric under them. Their left hand hovered strangely over the black line on their chest, making a motion as if to scratch the red parts, but forced itself to stop. “Who?”

“I… um…” Napstablook fumbled. “You’re a human, right? Um… can you just Check me?” Then he wouldn’t have to talk so much. No need for introductions.

Chara did. And the results messed with their thoughts some.

Napstablook

What a strange name.

Judging from the scenery they could see out the busted door, they could tell he was supposed to be this world’s version of Mum’s neighbour -- the shy, high-pitched Monster whose most iconic outfit was a bedsheet (Alphys; now they know). But here, she was their version of Dad -- the Royal Scientist, nerdy and introverted.

A younger version, though. Perhaps she had fortunately avoided some of the more harder-to-live-down mistakes he had made in his time. 

Not to say that they don’t assume she had her own share of secrets; the partially awake snippets of her heated discussion with Sans the last time they saw him suggested nothing but it. 

Speaking of the skeleton, Chara shed his jacket off of their shoulders and threw it ruefully to the side. 

But ‘Napstablook’ was more than a name they had _just_ learnt. It meant something, it was important, they knew. Just looking at the ghost’s silhouette, at his face and its simplistic design, they could just pull up an image of something etched in stone a long, long time ago. Something about charges and tragedy. 

And those eyes -- why do they feel anger?

_I wonder who you are._

“I’m… I’m Napstablook…” the ghost mumbled. “Your caretaker, he’s my cousin, so he left you here for a bit… I thought you Checked already… Oh man, I’m talking anyway… Sorry you have to hear my voice… Oh… Um, I have… music, if you want.”

They must’ve talked aloud again. Flashing the mystery-person an encouraging smile, Chara nodded. The skin just under their lips started itching so they started biting at it. Some music sounds good right now.

With somewhat of a ghost of a smile on his face, Napstablook floated past them to grab one of the records that were lying on the floor next to them. They appeared to have been taken down for cleaning, if the three rectangular dust-shapes above them on the wall told them anything. 

Chara’s eyes drifted around the room, from the tilting nature of the slightly domed ceiling to the cobweb-supported flier in the corner to the badly maintained wooden floors. There was no bed, no other room, not even any chairs despite the well-used appearance of the computer, but that was to be expected with the sole occupant of the house being an incorporeal ghost. 

Chara’s eyes drifted and eventually landed on the bundle sitting on the mattress next to them. Napstablook gave no indication that it was his or that he even noticed that it was there, so caught up in his music as he was, so the human tugged it open with a shrug.

There was a phone inside. Their old phone, to be exact -- one they thought they had lost forever when they didn’t find it once awaking in the skeleton brothers’ lab-slash-secret basement thing.

Chara flipped it almost reverently, slowly, scared it would turn out too good to be true… and it was. 

It was just a new phone. Shaped and coloured like their own, but with a giant yellow button on the side that turned the mobile device into a laser gun upon pressing. They pressed the button and accidentally shot a hole into the wood of the abused door on the ground. Oops. 

In it, there was a text from Alphys that was sent exactly three hours ago. Now at least Chara knew how much time had passed at the minimum. ‘Chara. Everything fine. Go take care of yourself. Maybe better this way.’

And that was it.

Oh, and then a second text sent three minutes after that was an ASCII art of a flirting cat girl. A minute after was ‘OOPS’ in capital letters, as such.

Chara appreciated the sentiment.

The second item they found was a container of spaghetti. The human set it aside with a fond snort. 

And the third was a note that had only one line of handwriting on it: ‘Stay inside the house.’

They got up with some difficulty, both hands taking turns scrabbling at their back as what felt like five bedbugs decided to bite them at roughly the same time. They crumpled the note up but placed it into their pocket. So much for that; they had already broken that rule in their sleep.

“Oh, you’re itchy…” Napstablook looked around his house. “Sorry, I haven’t cleaned up in a while. Wasn’t expecting… Um, here.”

He floated backwards, away from them, towards the doorway.

“Um,” he said, then paused. 

“Shower?” Chara suggested hopefully, inwardly not expecting the ghost to say yes. 

But Napstablook surprised them. He moved his body in such a way that made him look like he was shrugging -- an impressive feat when his arms were nothing but two tiny stumps reaching out of his torso -- and lowered the part of his body that was his head. “If you can find Woshua, he can help you. I think he stayed behind, but I’m not sure…”

He stayed behind. 

Woshua came out of his hiding place easily enough as soon as Chara stood atop a trash pile and shouted at the top of their lungs about wanting to get clean. He also washed Sans’ jacket for free, unprompted.

Chara walked around a bit, partly reveling in the fact they itched no more, partly doing it just to be polite and waiting for themself to stop dripping before they return to Napstablook’s house. 

They had realised they were barefoot about two seconds after they had walked outdoors but didn’t pay it much mind. They just had to be extra careful not to step on any pebbles or anything -- and anyways, a quick roll-up of their pants and they were stepping on the bottom of the water, where the grains of rock and sand were gritty but somehow pleasant.

So before they went anywhere else, Chara returned to Undyne’s house to retrieve their rubber slipper-shoes, placing a pokerface on when they realised they would be tracking water all over her floors instead. Of course, the house was empty. And though the human had had their fair share of exploring (and intruding) on their own, passing by the soundless kitchenette, as the rooms seem to place a low humming sound in their ears, unnerved them.

Outside, the welcome mat was placed a bit askew and interacting with it prompted Chara to notice there were runes drawn on the floor underneath. Runes that would turn a Determined person’s Soul green and thus render their feet useless should they walk over it. Oh, so that’s what that note meant. 

They turned off all the lights before they went, walked back to the quiet area before deciding to go west. 

But then they threw up again.

\--

Even still relatively distant, inside the tunnel that marked the transition between snowy mountains and wet caves, Papyrus could see the green on the side of the road that isn’t supposed to be there. 

His footsteps quickened to a slight jog, brow ridge lowering in concern as he took out his phone and called up Undyne on speed dial.

There was a bridge made out of plant life on the river. Not of bridge seeds but of thorny vines and tri-lobed leaves twisted and interlocked together into a narrow pathway just above the water surface. Tiny yellow buds dotted the green every so often, some on the sides weakening in the cold and dipping their tops into the mirror-still waterway.

Yellow flowers… _Coincidence,_ surely. 

Papyrus placed his hand on its surface and pushed it down. The bridge only dipped very, very slightly. It was strong, and it was stable, but it was also wet. Something had pushed it down with enough force to let water leak in from the sides and form tiny puddles in the middle. Like step on it. 

Which meant that unless the bad human had gone back to the town and was still there for whatever reason --

The direction they went in was behind him.

The dial tone finished its sixth beep and went dead. Now Papyrus was starting to get worried. Alphys went back to Hotland on her own to turn on street monitors that had previously been turned off for social privacy reasons, he was sent in the direction of Snowdin to scout out this area, and Undyne was completely alone in the area where the murderer was most likely to be.

And she probably knew this, too. Papyrus frowned, shaking his head and cursing fighters who didn’t know how precious they are, as he then widened his stance, ready to run full speed ahead back where he came from.

If it wasn’t for the familiar voice who called out to him from the town. 

“You!” the large Monster huffed, puffing and panting as if he had ran a whole marathon. Dr Gertrude trudged up the road and came closer and closer to Papyrus, becoming more visible with each step as the fog between them both thinned with the decrease in distance. 

“DOCTOR!” Papyrus greeted enthusiastically. And inside, his metaphorical heart sank. Gertrude opened and closed his mouth several times but other than loud smacking sounds, he didn’t seem capable of communicating much at the moment, judging from the severity of his wheezing. But the skeleton swallowed his dread and grinned wide, mentally preparing to move twice as fast as his top speed. The people first, always. “LET’S GET YOU SOMEWHERE SAFE, WHY DON’T WE?”

Hopefully the Riverperson was still in business.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Regarding Napstablook's gender -- I know some argue that they are canonically a 'they' but the reason I made Blooky into a 'he' here is because I didn't want people mixing them up with Chara. So basically I'm admitting to a lazy cop-out.  
> Fun fact (I say that a lot sorry): I have dermatitis myself. So either some of you understand the kind of surprise itches that I tried to describe, or you don't. Those who do, hiya!  
> Also here's an idea that didn't make it to the final cut: Papyrus doesn't know what toilets are.  
> \--  
> goodygoody19, I am building up a lot of drama, huh? *eyebrow wiggle*
> 
> Linkthetoa, Thank you so much for your feedback! By the way, I wrote a little side-story called 'Oh The Humanty' wherein Chara and Undyne do nothing BUT talk, haha. It should be listed in the same series as this.
> 
> ShadyShinx, sorry for drilling that in so much, heh. I actually realised while thinking about this chapter that SS!Chara was starting to feel more and more like just another cinnamon bun child and not like the Sans incarnation they should be. I'll try harder to fix that in later chapters.


	9. They were so... Emotional.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhm. I'm getting sick of writing filler scenes. Hopefully this is a change of pace?

“Hey.”

Something round and dull, yet with several spiky protrusions, hit square on the top of Chara’s head. They twitched.

“Hey, kiddo!”

Another one hit them. Chara shifted but stayed mostly asleep, propped up with their back to a cool wall that was far from even but smoothed out by water over time.

“Wa ha… Guess I have no other choice then…”

Something disgustingly lukewarm splashed across the face. Chara jerked awake immediately, sputtering and coughing some of the inhaled liquid out of their lungs. Some got into their eyes and stung upon impact. “Wha…!” they cried unintelligibly. 

Croaky, sore-throated laughter met their ears, sounding rather bitter if not faintly malicious. “So they’ve reawaken, unlike all the others they’ve put down. How are you feeling? Terrible, I hope.”

They had been completely blinded. Chara hastily rubbed their forearm at their face, growling, left hand wildly swinging around in the direction of the taunting voice. Red magic flared up under their eyelids and around their palms in preparation for an attack. Their hand knocked against the wall accidentally several times, accidentally melting some of its surface. 

“Ohh, so you’ve gained a new skill. Wah haha. Pathetic…”

“Who are you?” they asked warily, trying to force their eyes open.Whatever vision they could manage was blurred by tears and was cut off the next second as the need to blink came back. 

No answer. Just that same wavering chuckle, growing fainter by the second. Either they recognised whoever it was, or they didn’t -- Chara pried one eye open and looked.

It was an old turtle, peeking out at them through a magnifying glass. Both were looking at each other through only one eye. He looked old -- ancient even. Definitely older than anyone Chara cared to remember. Sclerae yellowed with age, liver spots dotting his temple, and the reptilian skin on his arms leathery; a testament to his experience in this world. 

“You…”

“So, here already, huh?” he croaked, looking them up and down. He stroked his long, scraggly beard as he retreated his head back into a hole in the wall, out of sight. Yet he still spoke, “To be honest, I had expected you to come around sooner, and the other part of me had hoped that you would pass through here at all. I guess that’s what I get for still having some of my youthful expectations. Wah ha.”

Chara climbed to their feet with the help of the wall. Their hands ran past the bottom hem of their jacket as they were put down again, feeling the slightly damp cloth. The water hadn’t completely evaporated yet, which gave them at least a bit of an idea as to how long exactly they had been out. They sniffed. Darn, it was cold. “Do I know you?”

The old man never lowered his magnifying glass. “I don’t know,” he said cynically. “Do you?”

“You’re…” Chara wracked their brain. It’s been years since they had last seen that face, read or heard or said that name out loud. It was Ge- something. ‘Geronimo’? “You’re the Hammer of Justice, aren’t you?”

The ex-warrior paused in the middle of an exhale and straightened his back just a little bit. “You know, kid,” he said slowly, single open eye staring at them very intensely. “You’re a lot more talkative than I’ve been told you would be.”

Their phone buzzed. Chara didn’t want to be rude, but any direct text message at the moment, when their friends had gone and insisted they not worry about a thing, was slightly more important than a single elderly Monster’s feelings. So they gestured ‘one second please’ and took out their phone.

'no time to explain to everyone youre good. dont tell them who you are.’

From Alphys.

Immediately thousands upon thousands of questions exploded -- mostly all some variation of one another reiterated dizzyingly in their mind. “Uhm,” they drew out, turning their eyes slowly to meet the turtle’s unimpressed gaze. His arms were crossed, back hunched steeply forward, yet he remained in the shadows of his stall. 

There was nothing they could say, apparently. Yet that didn’t stop Chara.

“What’s your name?” they asked.

“I thought you knew who I was.”

“Only your title,” the human bit their tongue to stop themself from accidentally calling the ex-warrior (judging from his reactions, that hadn’t changed) ‘sir’.

The turtle’s expression turned even more suspicious. It was too cold for Chara to break out into even cold sweat, so instead, the anxiety lead them to scratch at the skin again. Annoying, but bearable. It was less biting this time -- a simple poke by a thumbtack. 

“You owe me money, kid.”

Chara looked in the direction the old man was gesturing in and saw a couple of scraped, upturned crab apples as the fruits clawed at the air and wriggled their thin little legs around. The human pursed their lips and tasted something distinct.

“You threw a cup of sea tea at me?” Chara deadpanned. The turtle shrugged his knobbly shoulders, still looking very cynical and wary at the world. Specifically, at them. “Si -- er, geez… that’s a little… _salty_ , isn’t it?”

A pregnant pause filled the air between them. The turtle’s one closed eye had for once opened just a crack. His eyebrows, if he had any, disappeared into his hat. Chara held their breath.

“I’m gonna go now.”

Then they walked south, off-screen.

\--

Chara -- _the real_ Chara was facing off the annoying kid in the yellow striped shirt. Flowey never did like that lizard brat. Monster Kid never held a candle to... well, some other Monster Flowey learnt about during one of his runs as the nicest being ever. 

The human swung. They missed. They hit someone else.

\--

“ALPHYS! CHECK ON UNDYNE!” Papyrus sprinted past midnight-hued pathways and passages, feeling his way through pitch-black tunnels with memory. 

“ _I-I’m trying! Hold on!_ ” 

He leaped into the next room and the connection fizzled out. Papyrus took the phone away from his ear and tried to take a step back but for some reason ended up meeting a wall instead. The underlying frustration inside his ribs multiplied tenfold. If he had hair on his skull, the skeleton would be pulling on it in vexation.

“Papyrus?” A familiar voice called out from the darkness. The tall Monster paused.

“FLOWERY?” He said warily. 

“Howdy! Hahaha, I seem to have gotten lost,” the sweet voice explained, chuckling at his own mistake as if to say, ‘ _look at me, I’m innocent_. The words echoed and rebounded in the long narrow corridor so that it seemed to be coming from everywhere around him. “Would you mind helping me find the nearest lantern?”

\--

“One strike, and I’m already…” the warrior shook and fell to one knee. The human had no reaction but gaze down at her with dead and unfeeling eyes. The torn notebook was held up in the air like a weapon -- and somehow it looked more fearsome to Undyne than any sword or trident had ever seemed.

She had been too late, and half of the people who had opted to stay behind instead of paying for a spot in the bunker had to pay the price.

She couldn’t give up.

She wouldn’t let herself give up.

\--

Why was he here? Why wasn’t Flowey watching his best friend take down that annoying, overzealous fish?

Is it because he couldn’t? Because he didn’t want to?

Papyrus, the other smiley skeleton that at least wasn’t a total freak, managed to find the next light source easily even without the help of his vines on the walls. He hastily retreated them back into a more subtle, discreet position when illumination provided the Monster with sight.

Unfortunately, the sound of plant life traveling at unprecedented speeds was enough to create a sharp whizzing as well as cause some loose rocks to crumble. The skeleton straightened up. He had his back turned, head cocked, very still. Flowey resisted the urge to have a last say.

Papyrus looked back just in time to get hit square in the jawbone with a lignified branch. 

\--

There was almost no differences between the Riverperson here and the Riverperson back home. They still spoke in a strange, otherworldly voice and tone, their still hid their face, they still had a weird boat that turned into a cute animal sometimes. And they were still a they. 

Chara hopped on the boat after some hesitance that barely lasted five seconds. They could go back to the ghost’s house at any time, but the Riverperson was an old friend.

Or in this case, as with every entity they meet, a new one.

“Tra la la. Care for a ride?” they sang, voice airy. Their robe suddenly formed a sleeve that wasn’t there before and the Riverperson lent Chara a hand. They took it and stepped onto the boat. “Then we’re off.”

The boat mimed a woof and started moving, feet splashing water left and right. Yet not a drop landed on itself or its occupants. Chara plopped down to sit cross legged and hung a hand over the side, breaking the streamlines on the surface of the water behind them. 

“You recognise me?” They asked, just to satisfy their curiousity. They weren’t really daring to hope, not yet. 

‘...Hmm… Tra la la,” the Riverperson mulled it over. “I recognise everyone. Even those who don’t exist. Tra la la.”

Chara was left staring at the back of their cloak. They looked around. The outline of this Underground appeared to be not very different from their own, as far as they could tell. And if that’s true, then they were going… somewhere. Honestly they could never tell how the Riverperson got around to stirring the boat. They always went in one direction anyways.

The little trip ended with them arriving at an entirely similar station to the one they had left from, without, of course, passing any in between. The Riverperson bowed their hood and that was Chara’s queue to step off. They took small steps to stand in front of a big metal door, easily twice their height and three times their body width. It radiated cold and glinted even with the area so dimly lit. 

“Go.”

Chara wrapped their fingers around the small doorknob on the door’s side and pushed it down -- 

It was locked. 

The human whipped their head around to shoot an ‘are you serious?’ look at the Monster. (Bad idea. They cringed, waiting for the inevitable stab of pain behind their eyes… but the migraine didn’t set in. It was a small success, they supposed.)

“Tra la la. I see. Sigh,” the Riverperson said, not actually exhaling. They hovered over to the doorknob themself whilst never having stepped off their vessel once; the boat breached land, pushing through the rocky ground as if it was still water. They touched the door and a quiet clicking noise was heard. “Go walk to the next room. I will always be with you. Not right now though. Tra la la.”

The Riverperson got on the proper blue waters again. 

“Wait…” Chara said, turning around. Their eyes widened. “Wait! Where are you going?”

The boat started to float away merrily. The human tried catching it by jumping but their feet weren’t allowed to leave the station. It was unsafe, the sign beside them said. All they got was splashed by the boat. 

“HEY! Wait! Take me back to Napstablook’s house! He’s waiting for me!”

The boat got smaller and smaller until it blended into the darkness of the area. After that not even faint ripples on the water was all that was left of its departure. 

Chara sighed exasperatedly. They could probably try and teleport… or swim. But that was too much effort. Plus they had no idea if they would even make it, or if they would get lost or pass out in the cold and drown. 

They turned and turned the doorknob open, idly scratching up their arm. Then they entered. 

The next room, as it turned out, bled all colour from the surrounding walls; not that Chara would’ve noticed it much from how dark it was inside. The only source of real light was a pale ray shining down from a bend in the room. However, it didn’t travel at all and was not much help in illuminating the path they had to go.

The human tried to take a step forward only to accidentally kick what seemed like a hollow box in front of them. Feeling its top surface told them there was a plate with engravings in the middle of the longer sides and that the box was oddly shaped, but they could neither tell what the metal engraving said nor what the shape reminded them of. 

It was on the tip of their tongue. And on another day Chara might’ve taken the time to stand there until the word came to them, but not now. The hollow wooden container was long, low and it blocked their path from end to end across the room. 

They thought about using magic to just teleport across the room. But as soon as their eyes started glowing even dimly, a spike of pain rammed itself into the back of their head and broke their concentration, forcing them to stop.

They cursed. But it wasn’t the first time it had happened. Mum always said to just rest and wait for their magic to recharge itself naturally, so that’s what they’re going to do. 

They still needed to progress and get out of this dark, dry place though.

Chara took a breath and trusted that whatever cellar that they were in didn’t have anything too valuable lying around to break, then heaved themself up onto the box blocking their way. 

Their right hand closed around something they didn’t realise was there before and it felt like they had crushed it. Chara quickly drew their hand back, kneeling on top of the box now, and reached for it again.

It felt…damp where they had obviously accidentally mashed it against the wood, but not damp enough that whatever it was was still alive. Their fingers were clean still when they held them in front of their nose, so it wasn’t like it was any type of blood the knew…

They picked it up. It was limp, and heavy on one end. The weight was dry and flaked easily at the edges but were still soft and supple otherwise. There were six petals, and yet it didn’t hurt them upon contact like they would expect from _those_ flowers. 

Chara swallowed heavily and placed the blossom back on the wood, but didn’t let it go just yet.

They made it over easily enough, but then there was another box in the way. They groaned. 

\--

Asgore watered his garden and kept on watering. He plucked out the weeds and clipped the leaves where they had grown too dense. Gardening was a solace for him.

What should he have for lunch later? Perhaps he will have it outside, in the city. He heard that a new one had just opened up by the Capitol aquarium, owned by a resident there and her family. Unfortunately, he hadn’t been able to attend their grand opening… so perhaps he will make it up to them by visiting on their first official day of business. 

The king bent down, humming tunelessly to himself, and gently, reverently, clipped off exactly seven of the most vibrant, fully bloomed golden blossoms in his garden and cradled them in his left arm like a child.

His garden was tended enough for today. Now he had somewhere else to be.

Asgore walked slowly back towards his home taking as much time as he could, then lingering in the doorway of the throne room just a little too long before finally closing the door. Immediately the chirping of the birds, the winds of nature -- every bit of ambiance that served as a background texture in his mind until then, disappeared, leaving him in a cold hallway with two ways to go. 

He took the left path, as he always did every morning after tending the garden.

Step by step, he walked down the stairway. Each of his footfalls echoed down the darkening corridor and made the place seem more desolate and forgotten than it was.   
Finally he reached the end of the flight of stairs. The pitch blackness of the room was nothing new, and Asgore knew where the light switch was without even having to look over and feel the wall for it. He flipped it on and the basement exploded in white lights.

“...Dad?”

\--

The human breathed heavily, chest heaving with every intake of air. There was dust in their hair, on their hands and on their weapons -- even on the glasses they had gotten not half an hour ago. 

The dust wasn’t new.

Their sudden weakness was, however.

_They were exhausted, but they couldn’t stay. Not here, not ever again. Chara wobbled in their steps, listing to one side more than the other like a lame horse. They stumbled over their own left foot and collapsed unsteadily against a piece of a building still left standing. Their hands landed on hard cement on bare, crumbling bricks. They needed to move on. Forge on. They were almost to the edge of the village._

_The trees were right there, at the end of the makeshift neighbourhood. They just had to make it._

_Chara limped past dead and desolate homes. Wind blew through their thin wet clothes and chilled /*their bones. So the child kept walking in hopes that warmth would find them eventually._

_Around them, the smoke and debris dust was thick, clogging the air and muffling any normal nighttime sounds to come through. There were no crickets chirping, no early pre-twilight birds cooing sleepily from the trees. Chunks of buildings and even ground were completely gone, and some taller homes had their roofs collapsed in the wake of walls and hole pillars disappeared from under them._

_The night was lonely without people to make noise._

_They walked without looking back, putting their head down and just focusing on putting one stolen shoes-clad foot in front of the other. It wasn’t easy. Because they could’ve sworn they felt ghosts riding on their back. The Devil’s trident poking at their neck. Hell-hounds snapping at the back of their heels, craning their necks in hopes that their fangs would be able to cut the Achilles tendon and bring the human to the ground._

_But if they acknowledge the demons, they would be real. And then Chara would lose, because they were already tired. And they didn’t want to fight back any more._

_So they kept their eyes forward and kept moving._

_It was slow going but once they made it to the trees, it started getting easier. Better. Their skin stopped aching so much and the cool damp of the atmosphere under the canopy felt good for their throbbing muscles. In here, surrounded by all this foliage, no one could see them with all this cover around. The only eyes on their body were those of owls and singing cicadas._

_They had some stale bread left in their cloth sack, so they ate that with some berries that they found, as well as some firm-feeling tomatoes from a plant at the base of a big willow tree. The sun was coming up. Their heart almost felt lighter feeling the light gradually cover more and more of the mountain, greeting it as it did each morning like a loving mother would._

_Their feet were covered in sores and popped blisters but they kept going, clutching a fist over their labouring lungs as they trekked further and further up a pathless journey. Chara wasn’t quite sure why they did._

_No, that was a lie. They knew._

_Because if they didn't, what else was there to do? A life with no purpose is a life better not wasted. Right now, climbing the mountain is their only goal. Once they get there... then perhaps they will get to see the Monsters' prison with their own eyes. Hopefully they won't see many human skeletons there. They had tried so hard to warn people against going..._

_Hah, so they were a hypocrite now on top of everything else._

_Chara accidentally kicked a small pebble up the steepening ground and watched as it fell down faster and father than when it went up. They shook their head and frowned at the challenge in front of them, ignoring their bodily pains and limitations. They needed to see what if they had been telling the truth all along, or if their doubts would be proven right and the people had been fed them false information in order to discredit Chara as the village fool._

_They needed to know, needed to see with their own two eyes. Then they could die happier._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone was wondering about the weird pacing of time in this story, it's because canonically, everything that happens in Undertale happens within the span of a day. I say bull honkey because I refuse to believe the Monsters had been trapped in such a small space that literally walking through it all from end to end takes way less than twenty-four hours.  
> \--  
> goodygoody19, Fixed! Thank you for telling me! Sometimes I post these chapters at 2 at night and then edit them the next morning (like today) so you calling big mistakes like that put a fire under me to jump out of bed as fast as I can. 
> 
> eJ121, I haven't really read the other StoryShift-based stories here so I can't comment much, but that's really nice of you to say! Also, yes. StoryShift Chara has so much potential I'm thinking of a way larger arc at the moment that I will hopefully be able to retain the determination to write out. 
> 
> Linkthetoa, Believe me, me neither. I was looking at random enemy Checks and then suddenly BAM. Minor characters. Also, in case it's not fairly obvious yet -- (psst. top secret) UT!Chara's Bad Time is going to be the climax of the story. So. Please be patient, haha.
> 
> ShadyShinx, WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM MEEEE (real talk, I don't usually majorly change chapters that are already out unless it's for formatting, grammar, spelling, etc)


	10. What did you do to him?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whoops dead people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For a while I couldn't do anything productive and when I finally snapped out of it a whole week had passed. I'm sorry.  
> Also, das a lotta people reading this story. Hi! Thanks for stopping by!

The flowers Asgore's had hand-picked oh so very carefully escaped his hands and fell unceremoniously to the floor. They trailed fragile petals behind them which swayed from side to side in their descent before landing much more gently at the king’s feet. 

His child stood in front of their coffin, leaning back against it uncertainly as if still remembering how to stand. They looked up at him, expression every bit shocked and lost as his was. They looked just as they were the last time Asgore's had ever gotten to lay eyes on them. Young, scared. But better. This time, they were wake. They were on their feet. 

This time they were alive.

“Ch…” his voice caught in his throat and refused to come out. He couldn't even say the name he hadn't thought to utter in hundreds of years. Instead, he trailed off, jaw quivering. All of the words he had composed in his grief, all of the things he had ever regretted not saying before their death, it left him.

His vision went blurry and for a single, terrifyingly desperate moment, Asgore's thought this… _mirage_ was finally revealing its true nature. He thought they were disappearing, leaving him a second time. But it was only tears. He allowed them to fall untouched, reluctant to take his eyes off the sight in front of him. 

"Chara?"

The small child huffed a small laugh and shrugged, bowing slightly. When they spoke, their voice was louder, braver, but they still looked to be on the verge of crying. Chara moved as if to take a stuttering step forward. "Y -- Yeah. Greetings."

It had been hundreds of years since he had last heard that voice. 

The two didn’t have anything to say -- they didn’t need any words. Being in each other’s presence was already overwhelming by itself. They stared at each other, taking the other in. One having not seen his child for hundreds of years and the other having last seen their father a few days ago. A ghost of a family long past. A painful reminder of what they weren’t sure they could get back.

Chara couldn’t help the sob that escaped their lips. A shaky smile grew on their face as their body trembled weakly. They faltered.

At this point, Asgore did not honestly care if it was a dream or a cruel, heartless trick -- he would buy it, and he would live out this fantasy until it would prove itself to shatter and fall away around him. His child was there and he would be damned if he didn’t ward their demons away. 

Chara blinked and the next thing they knew they were engulfed in a hug, huge purple silk-clad arms wrapping tersely around them. Their eyes widened comically in shock. He was barely touching the sides of their arms -- skirting around them like he was afraid to. 

The warmth enveloping them was soft and comforting, familiar and at the same time slightly removed. 

They both thought, breathing sighs of relief, of contentment, of disbelief -- _This is real._

Chara’s shaking knees stopped trembling the moment they hugged back, and they closed their eyes, happy. 

They squeezed the arm closest to them as hard as they could, almost congratulatory in the action. And the moment Asgore's , "I missed you so much, Azzy."

\--

They had encountered and fought against Undyne the Undying multiple, if not countless times before. So much so that they had pretty much memorised every one of her attacks in order from start to finish, and have dodging her weapons down to a flawless science.

And yet this round, first off, they met at Undyne's Arena, which was unusual in of itself whenever they've killed this many people already. But also, five turns in and the majority of their ribs were either cracked or completely broken, they were bleeding heavily from a cut on their forearm where a spear had nicked them, and Chara was pissed.

They yelled out in pain as the sharp end of a spear grazed just above their brow, breaking their concentration. A fresh trail of warm crimson blood coated strands of their hair messily in the wind, making some stick together and be a nuisance. A good amount had spread over their eyebrow as well. The liquid ran down their brow and forced them to squint their left eyelid closed, baring teeth and growling under their breath. That eye could only see in red now.

_There were the big blisters on the corner of their heels and the back of their ankles, the balls of their feet and toes, and they all popped and soaked the insides of their shoes before the day had even fully matured yet. After that, as they started taking liberties to find shaded spots under oak and willow trees more and more often, they stopped taking their shoes off during breaks in dread of what they would see if they did._

_The mountain was tall but it was doable. They had all the time in the world now that no one would be looking for them. All the while, they thought about finding the other humans they've met before, who had passed by the village and would have been on this mountain before. Maybe the most recent one was still around there somewhere. What was his name, again?_

_It was a nice thought, but not one to hold onto._

They ate some astronaut food and felt their bones knitting back together, not a lot but enough. With renewed vigour, they weaved around the circling rings of spears all closing in on them and jumped over some more. They held the torn notebook above their head and brought it down with a furious roar.

This fight was starting to sap their patience away. 

\--

Asgore froze up, it taking all of his effort to keep from flinching away as if the human was on fire. They did not seem to notice.

"Wow you --" they sniffed, burrowing their head, hair ruffled and sticking up all over the place, into his chest. "You're so tall and --" they sniffed again, wetly this time. "You look just like -- just like Dad," they chuckled. "And King, too. Wow. Just _look_ at you, bro!"

Eventually, the hug loosened. Asgore drew back his arms, making Chara look up at him in question. They weren’t budging one bit from his side. 

"Is that why -- Is that why we're still Underground after all these years?" they gave a wet laugh, rubbing at their eyes with the sleeve of their jacket. "Haha... I bet you were too queasy to kill any humans for their Souls, huh?"

But as their teary eyes, narrowed in a smile, met his own equally misty pair, the human’s laugh faded and fell away, leaving them sober and questioning. 

"My child..." At those two simple words, Chara whipped their head up so fast they might've gotten whiplash, and one look at them and Asgore knew they understood. "As of the day you... _left_ , six other humans have fallen down after you."

Hearing that, Chara froze. They looked at the Monster King's face for guidance, pleading him to say it wasn't true, assure them that he didn't -- he wasn't --

The human turned around and finally took a good, long look at what they had been jumping over in the dark all along. 

Coffins. Seven of them, with beautiful, clear, brightly coloured gems carved into the shape of Souls put into the covers. 

"Dakota..." they shook their head in denial, slowly untangling themself from Asgore's arms. "Leila. Cole. Shauna. Aya. Finnigan... Angel, they're all... here."

"Chara?" Though usually his voice would boom and reverb, deep with dramatic leadership and kind wisdom, Asgore's voice was small in the rectangular room. 

"You... you're just as bad as him." An image of the fearsome skeleton king -- _their Sans_ , brandishing his dual magic at them with a grin and a lightless stare -- flashed behind Chara's eyes and they shook their head rapidly.

Asgore was downright alarmed. His mind whirled, trying to remember anything about if it was possible for humans to retain consciousness after death. "You know them?" he asked.

Chara did not answer. Their eyes had finally strayed to the only coffin they hadn't looked at yet -- the only difference between this basement and King Sans'. The name embossed under the ruby-red heart seemed to mock them, as if saying 'Come on in. It's yours'. 

Chara threw themself back, away from the Monster in front of them, expression stagnant in shock and horror. And for the first time in his life, Asgore saw his child look at him in a way that he had always fervently dreaded -- in a way that he had had nightmares about more often than naught --

with fear.

He blinked and they were gone from his sight, leaving behind bright burning particles like red-hot ash, that shimmered as they dissipated completely into thin air. There was a thud of knees against stone behind him and when Asgore whirled around on his heels he caught just a glimpse of feet rushing up the stairs. 

There was a decision to be made here and the king chose the right one. He stepped over his beloved flowers and chased after the image of his long gone child. 

They didn't go very far -- stopping just at the doorway of the throne room. They wouldn't step foot inside, instead kicking at the stalks of the flowers that stopped just as grass turned to stone.

Asgore stopped a few feet behind the human, so that there was enough space between them. He thought about stepping closer.

“You…” his voice broke and he cleared his throat, embarrassed. “Uhm." He inhaled and straightened up. "They're chrysanthemums. They could be made into tea, or sweet nectarine drinks. I thought..."

Asgore took a deep breath and walked forward, footfalls slightly heavier than normal in order to accentuate his approach. Chara tensed, hands tightening and relaxing at the doorway indecisively, before they decided to turn around. But still they refused to look anywhere other than at their own rubber shoes. 

“Of course I did not hurt you,” he said empathetically. The familiar words tumbled easily out of his mouth, as they were the same words that he had said to himself for almost five years after Asriel left and came back. “I would never. You have to believe me, child.”

Chara shuffled their feet together, eyes squeezing shut. They wanted to stay angry, stay scared, stay horrified, but they couldn’t find it in themself. They were too tired. 

He searched their Soul with one look. Sifting through his memories for differences, similarities... comparisons that he wished would match up. 

A warm paw-like hand, with short fingers but a soft palm, lifted reluctantly from Chara's left shoulder and slid its way under the human's chin, gently coaxing their face to tilt upwards. They had to crane their neck just to meet his eyes. His breath stopped. 

There was a pause. 

“...You're not them, are you?” he breathed eventually, simply, politely. His voice was completely steady. 

Chara stared up at the father figure that was not theirs with the eyes of a person who was seeing everything they hold dear get farther and farther away. They pasted on a small smile on their face and tilted their head away from Asgore's hand, retreating. 

They shook their head slightly. "And you're not..."

"No, my child, I am not... Asriel." Asgore swallowed the lump forming in his throat. 

Chara's eyes drifted slightly to the left, narrowing in a smile that didn't quite seem right on their lips. "Is it that obvious? That I'm..."

"From another universe?" Asgore chuckled not unkindly at their surprised look. "I'm the king, my -- " he inhaled sharply, eyes wide, but found it in himself to smile reassuringly at Chara, "child. Whatever the greatest scientists in the kingdom find anything worth mentioning, I am made somewhat aware of."

The human huffed a soft snort . Asgore either did not notice or pretended like he didn't.

"But also... there are the little things. Like how you called me 'Dad' instead of 'Father'." Asgore ducked gravely, a small, wistful smile over the groomed hairs of his beard. "And I've never seen you a day out of stripes..."

"Well, it _was_ a Monster tradition thing," Chara shrugged. 

"Also... You've grown." he paused, taking a halting breath. Asgore smiled softly at the human and asked, choosing his words carefully as he spoke, “Where you came from… Are you happy?”

As it appeared, not carefully enough. Chara was bombarded with thoughts of home,  
of playing pretend with Asriel, days of getting sick eating sugary treats, of training and In their mind’s eye, they saw their brother managing to summon real life Chaos Blaster for the first time -- really a flashy attack then giving up on training to watch the little Boss Monster do it instead.

“Uhm -- uh,” Chara stammered, then cleared their throat. “Yeah. Yeah, I… I was happy.”

Asgore huffed a small laugh. “I’m glad.”

Once again, there was a lull in the conversation. Neither minded it very much, even though the King was used to having small moments like these sitting down, with a warm cup of golden flower tea between his hands. 

His heart ached with old wounds freshly opened, suddenly bombarded with memories he had painstakingly buried so far down he wasn’t ready for their reappearance. He wanted to brush the child’s hair from their eyes, trace the curve of their ears and wipe the faintest residues of dried tears from their cheeks, but he knew that even standing as close as he was to them was pushing it. 

Asgore broke the silence first. “I hope you are happier there than how you were here,” he said.

Chara blinked in surprise and confusion. The Monster suddenly looked like a deer caught in the headlights, eyes wide and staring straight ahead.

“Was I not happy here?” they asked slowly. 

“I’m sorry,” Asgore blurted out. “I -- _we_ tried our best.”

He tried to stop -- or maybe he didn’t. Words that had remained in the background of his thoughts for all the times he had felt alone suddenly sprang forward. He had been robbed of a family for far too long, he had forgotten what it was like to have somebody to talk boundlessly with. And now that he had an image of one staring him right in the face… 

“What do you mean?”

“We were doing well, finally, years after you had fallen down. All of Monsterkind had accepted you as part of the royal family --”

“ _Royal family_ ” Chara reiterated.

“-- You were getting better at controlling your magic, we were going to surprise you with this… human idea of officially writing down someone’s name on a piece of paper so they would be part of the family --”

“I remember.”

“-- But we never got to, child. You fell gravely ill and not even our Royal Scientist at the time could figure out what was wrong with you.”

_Oh, he figured it out, alright._ Chara thought out of nowhere. Their jaw slackened, eyes flickering to the high corners of the hallways even though they knew there would be nothing there.

He chucked words out of his throat left and right, carelessly. “We watched you deteriorate, more and more of you turning into dust, little by little. You turned greyer by the day and weaker by the hour, saying less and eating less and after every night, having fewer waking hours until...” He huffed as much of the air out of his lungs as possible within one exhale, tripping over his own words with nothing to blame but himself. “You -- you _died_ , Chara.”

“I -- what?!” Chara finished, shaking themself away from their father’s equivalent. Their left foot caught on their right and before they knew it they were toppling over, backwards, surrounded by tiny golden petals and buds and leaves on stalks. Sitting down, the grass was taller than them and casted shadows across their vision, flower heads looming tall above their heads.

The human gasped like a drowning man who had just broken the surface. They scrambled to their feet, stumbling over to get out of the room as fast they could. 

“So -- So it worked?” they muttered quickly to themself, eyes looking slightly to the left yet at the same time looking quite far away. “Wait, _did_ it work? No… the fact that there even still is an Underground means that it didn’t, did it? Didn’t it?” Chara shook their head as if to clear it.

“Child?” Asgore reached towards them but flinched and took it back, wringing his hands together in front of his chest. He looked like he had just aged ten more years. ( _Speaking of --_ ) “Forgive me -- well, it has been a while, but, if I would, you look,” he swallowed thickly, smile faltering, “ -- poisoned.” He cleared his throat, mouth opening slightly in anxiety. ‘Err, I’m sure it’s a coincidence. Either way, you look like you could use a place to sit down, relax… perhaps even wash up?” Asgore placed the tips of his fingers lightly on the back of their neck, meaning to steer them to the left, where New Home was waiting with the ingredients for a warm cup of tea, when the feel of their skin stopped him in his tracks. 

The human in question jerked away in response as if they had been burnt, a hand tracing the dry rashes, then rubbing, then full-on scratching. Their other hand came up comically to catch it and hold it down. “Dad,” they said, suddenly serious. “You need to get out of here. Something’s not right. Frisk -- the human -- the _other_ human -- They’re going to come here and kill you. I can’t let that happen! Please, this place’s Mum is gone --”

Asgore inhaled sharply, face tightening in pain. He closed his eyes as Chara continued. 

“You and Azzy’s the only ones I have left now… Right? Hey… Dad?” they said after a moment of quiet contemplation. “Wh-Where’s my brother?”

\--

Papyrus woke up with a grunt. He pushed himself up to a sitting position and tore what felt like multiple vines off from on top of him, where they were in abundance, but limp and weak. There were no thorns or many contact points with the ground or walls -- it was like the net was made more for the sake of being an annoyance than an actual hindrance. 

He huffed as he created a tiny blaster skull floating above the base of his metacarpus for the sole purpose of making sure everything was still working (which they were), then turned on the lantern as he scrambled to take out his phone and call Alphys, Undyne -- anyone.

There was no signal. He groaned loudly. 

There was a huge problem here of everyone not understanding enough the need to stay together -- which none of them were at this point. Both he and Undyne were alone (hopefully, for the fish Monster’s sake) and separated, Alphys was currently unreachable, and the house was empty. He had no idea where the human was -- either of them, really -- and he had no idea where _he_ was supposed to be heading to, too. 

Papyrus clenched his fists in front of his eye sockets and forced himself to breathe. 

Now the only way he could continue to go was forward. 

He remembered, a long, long time ago, he used to be afraid of the dark. He used to climb into his brother’s bed in the middle of the night crying about humans in the closet and his nightmares. Now, Papyrus thought the dark wasn’t so bad when he knew there were worse things out there to be afraid of. 

He met a small, yellow, armless lizard child on the way, who looked sad, angry and alone all at the same time as they sprinted their way home, unafraid of falling or running into things. On any other occasion, with any other threat, he might’ve taken the time to personally make sure they get home safely. Right now though, he just had to trust that the small civilian would be able to make it on their own, with nothing but luck and hopes on their side. 

The bridge was empty. Papyrus wasn’t quite sure why he had expected for there to be anything at all there in the first place, but it didn’t surprise him. He kicked a pebble down into the abyss then ran at top speed to Undyne’s favourite mountain range.

When he arrived, he was breathing heavily from more than just tiredness. He looked around, finding no one and nothing that indicated that anything at all had happened there recently. He sputtered and stopped in his tracks, ribcage heaving as he panted heavily, whirling his head around in a vain attempt at looking for someone that wasn’t there. Feet parted, hands clenching and unclenching nervously, his cheeks tensed more and more by the second in worry and stress. He shook his head and straightened up. 

He took a step forward whilst his head was turned to the side, and he knew --

The world seemed to disappear. Papyrus was left all alone, staring at a spot he wished he hadn't found. The winds were silent, as if holding its breath. The entire mountain range was in a state of shock. 

A single lonely pile, pale grey and slightly scattered over to one direction, though it wouldn’t have been the wind to disturb it. It was larger than most; the amount of dust a monster becomes correlates to the strength of their Soul. 

Dust.

His steps echoed emptily within the sharply angled valleys as he approached the lonely pile. There _had_ been someone here. Not anymore.

His hands shook as he reached out towards the soft grey pile, falling limply to his knees. From the corner of his eyes, he saw something at the end of the trail waning from the pile -- a single darker spot, a mark across the grainy discolouration of the rocks. 

It was black and flat -- a small piece of cloth with two strings on either side. 

Papyrus found himself reaching for it. He watched, detached, as if he was an observer inside of his own body, as his fingers closed around the tiny thing like it was the most fragile piece of cloth in the Underground. His jaw bone felt slack, and he found himself opening and closing it periodically though he had nothing to say. 

There was nothing to say. So instead, Papyrus roared his anguish to the the muted jewels of the ceiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this chapter coherent?  
> EDIT: Perhaps it was not their intention, but Linkthetoa alerted me to the fact that I may have been accidentally racist towards Monsters (wasn't my intention really as it was more of a moment of me drawing the line between Monsters and monsters, as all throughout this series I've been utilising the concept of point of view to change the names by which I refer to certain characters). So. I've changed that now.  
> \--  
> goodygoody19, Soon, soon...
> 
> Phoenixblade17, I'm sorry if it wasn't clear, he was still IN his shop. The next room after the quite area is the corridor with his shop-cave at the upmost wall and the path to the Riverperson at the bottom of the screen. 
> 
> ShadyShinx, uhh...


	11. IIIIIIIT'S SHOWTIME!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh no. Oops I just realised Mettaton should also be speaking in all caps.  
> Please tell me if any of you would like an update correcting that.

**_Why. Don’t. You. Like. This?_ **

The frying pan swung repeatedly through the air in a wide vertical arc, going up, down, its tinny, indistinct clanging getting increasingly louder with every collision between it and the warm, rocky floor. Besides the ground, it was hitting nothing. Nothing of importance, nothing of value, nothing that could increase their stats or served any interactable value.

Nothing but dust. 

A final cry of rage -- somewhere between a yell, a grunt and a howl of frustration, and the current weapon of choice was pounded so hard against the ground it wrenched itself forcefully out of Chara’s grip and bounced several feet away. It slid and scraped across red rock, loudly trailing harsh clattering managed to keep from falling to the magma below. 

Their hands were red and covered with soon-to-be blisters and abrasions, but the pain was nothing compared to the baffling _loudness_ in their head. Different from Frisk’s tireless resistance, or the violently screaming itch that begged and demanded to be fulfilled as a result of gained LOVE. But still annoying. More annoying. More frustratingly perplexing than both combined.

All of a sudden, they wanted to stop. They wanted to take a step back and reconsider, listen to the voice in the back of their head that had always beseeched them to try remembering. Remember where they come from. Remember what they were. Who.

They forgot why they had started doing murder runs in the first place..

They growled gruffly, shaking their head from side to side. Matted hair slapped against their face but otherwise offered no reprieve from the _feelings_ (They spat, the word almost as bitter as a bloody curse on their tongue. The meager spray of saliva was rather dry against their chapped lips, and like the drops of sweat before it, was reduced to steam before it ever reached the ground) threatening to tear their heart away from their chest. 

That ultimatum, the danger of future thoughts, choice, doubt, was almost enough to --

No. They shook their head, almost physically injecting distance between themself and the choice of escape. Chara didn’t know when, if ever, such a derailment from the norm would happen again ( _that version of them their past the good one they were never the good one_ ) and Angel knew how much time it’d been since anything new had happened to them. This was interesting. This was new. They were going through everything with the same sense of… _wonder_ and excitement they had that first time, when they first served as merely the backseat driver to Frisk’s romp through Underground. 

Chara deliberately walked on what smattering of dust remained in front of them, kicking dejectedly at the grey that mixed with the reddish orange smut, the latter all they could manage for all the minutes wasted at beating the ground. They picked the burnt, and now battered, pan back up and gingerly twirled it between their palms.

They turned away from the option to Reset. 

\-- 

He didn’t have anything to hold the dust in, so Papyrus forced himself to scoop up the dust handful by handful into a corner hidden at nearly all sides by rocks. This way, even if the winds came back, the dust won’t all blow away. He would never forgive himself if they weren’t able to give Undyne the proper funeral a hero deserved. 

His thoughts churned, slipping into places that made actually him feel sick to his metaphorical stomach. Thoughts like who would be present, what the object of honour would be, what if he wouldn’t be the one to come back to this spot to gather her remains up. 

It wasn’t often that Papyrus felt this way. It wouldn’t even be a stretch to say that he had never experienced grief and anger so prominent that they would give way to a morbid form of disgust. In some ways, he didn’t even want to think about what he knew happened. In other ways, it wouldn’t leave him alone.

He took out the two things from his bundle he had actually taken with him outside Undyne’s house (his breath hitched unexpectedly when it dawned on him that nobody would ever make spaghetti in there again) and held both briefly in his hands before tucking one back into his scarf. 

His phone, and pale green swathes of cloth with frayed seams and brand new stitches in the front, where oddly stand-out red thread is used. The latter was placed back where it came from (It was finished but he had nowhere to leave it just yet, and no one in the vicinity to give it to.). 

If Papryus had taken a look in the mirror that instant he wouldn’t have recognised himself. It was still him -- his outer appearance hadn’t changed at all, as a result of everyone else absolutely refusing to let him face off Frisk on his own, apart from being slightly bedraggled due to all the running. But the light in his eyes, his smile, his positivity and hope had all dimmed. And if somebody had pointed that out to him, he would’ve looked away and told them that it was for good reason.

The Underground was in a bad way. His home was being threatened. 

And he could do absolutely nothing about it.

A few days ago, Papyrus would’ve been the last person anyone would expect to be wishing for someone else’s demise. But as of right that moment, as he loosened his scarf and walked past the empty sentry station without another glance, he pondered the potential outcome of just taking the murderer’s Soul right then and there while they were still even remotely Human. Back in Snowdin, as he tried talking to the thing in the shed, for however long he tried Papyrus believed they could still be good. That everyone deserved second chances.

Well, that was before he saw first hand a Monster’s dust before their time. 

The skeleton Monster reluctantly forced himself to let go of the death grip he had on his phone; it was about to crack. And after his caps lock button was accidentally punched in last time, he wasn’t very eager to have it any more broken than it was. He stiffly turned it on and texted. 

\--

Alphys was shaking. She could barely keep track of the monitors behind her misty glasses, tear tracks on her face a constant reminder of her helplessness. She might’ve still been crying, in fits and bursts as her tear ducts constantly depleted themselves to levels of emptiness the lizard had never known before. She couldn’t tell if the tears were new, didn’t care to check.

Her vision blurred and doubled nervously as she had to fight to keep from breaking down. 

Before today, she hadn’t quite held last words to a regard. Far too often did shows and anime used them as a gag -- something anti-dramatic, embarrassing or silly. But Undyne was gone. She was gone and currently the only thing Alphys could think about coherently was her and her words, her voice. 

Well, her, and the scientist’s own impending doom.

No, that was a lie. Alphys still thought about the feel of Undyne’s scales, her captivating red eyes, how she could always look good in armour, in a tank top, in a leather jacket, _anything_. Alphys thought about her passion and her kindness and her steadfast support. Undyne had always believed in her, whether it was for better or worse. Sometimes she saw through the silly lies, most times she didn’t.

But either way, Alphys only got to tell her one last truth. 

_”Hey, Alphys?”_

_“Yeah, U-Undyne?”_

_“If… If I don’t make it --”_

_“Don’t say that! You will! You have to! You’ll beat them, no more cages, everything will be fine!”_

_Laughter. “You’re not scared, are you?”_

_“But… I… N -- … yes.”_

_“Alphys?”_

_“HnNN!! Yes! Of course I am! I’m scared for you, Undyne! What if -- what if you… you don’t --!”_

_“Alphys. Alphys, it’s okay. I’ve accepted it.”_

_‘I haven’t.’_

_But she didn’t say that._

_Pause. Breathing. Neither of them had been ready to hang up, nor would they had ever been._

_Eventually, Undyne gulped audibly behind the speaker. “Listen…” she strained out. It was a privileged sound, to hear her be so choked up. Alphys wished there was a happier reason for it. “It’s coming here. Soon, I’ll be fighting it. You’ll be watching, won’t you?”_

_“...Yes,” Alphys squeezed her eyes shut as she made the promise through gritted teeth._

_“If… If I don’t make it -- Hear me out here. If it gets past me, get to a safe place, alright? Tell Asgore to take the Souls, then hide. I… I won’t be there, so, you’ll have to be the one comforting the evacuated.”_

_Alphys said nothing, only cried silently into her phone._

_“Hey, Alphys?” Desperation._

_“Undyne…”_

_“I love you.”_

_They both stopped breathing._

_“Alphy?” She sounded almost scared._

_“I love you too, Undyne.”_

\--

Her phone’s ringtone chirped through the solemn, rhythmic ambiance of metallic clanging and groaning. Though the Core was dead, the building still settled. It announced the arrival of a new post by one of her UnderNet friends. It broke her out of her grief-stricken trance, making her gasp and jerk back in surprise. Blinking rapidly, she took her glasses off and rubbed them between her fingers, numbly clearing her perception.

She scrabbled for her phone, inhaling deep and slow in hopes it would help her calm down. Flipping the screen upwards for only a few milliseconds dashed all hopes of her regaining her composure however, as the message it displayed was nothing she didn’t already know.

She turned her remote -- nothing but a box with a single button on it, really -- over and over again in her hands, fiddling restlessly with it.

“Alphys?” 

It was a testament to how numb and unresponsive he felt that Alphys didn’t immediately jump two feet into the air in surprise. In fact, she didn’t even say anything -- just looked on ahead, expecting it to come any second now…

“Darling… What are you doing?” 

“Mettaton.” It took a moment for Alphys to register that same cold, unfeeling voice to be her own. “Get back. Stay behind the range of the lasers. You can’t be in the way when It comes here.”

She wasn’t sure when the notion had snuck into her mind that the pronoun had to be capitalised, but it did and now it was. 

“Alphys,” he said carefully, and even without turning around the scientist could imagine his hands being held up palms-forward, as a sign of peace. Calm. As if she was being the irrational one. “I don’t know what you’re planning, but please, get up. Let’s go back to the base, yes? I need a plus-one for my newest performance…”

How a voice modulator, so heavily hidden under layers upon layers of auto-tuning and static balancing, could convey such a multitude of different emotions, Alphys would never know. She supposed she should, in hindsight; after all, she was the one to program the tweaked voice synthesizer to the other Monster’s liking (okay, so it still had traces of an accent in it, so what) but the miracle itself was all Mettaton. He used what she gave him and made himself into what he _was_ today. He didn’t need her. He never did. 

Even the body she promised him was already done, had been done for quite some time now, technically. At this stage of production, even an untrained schoolchild would be able to screw in the last bolts and get it running now. 

So she told him.

It was strange -- he didn’t have a face. Not yet. But she could almost feel the frown he gave her. His silence told plenty. 

He wasn’t leaving.

Her snout burnt, tears starting afresh yet not even managing to fall from her eyelids, so exhausted were her tear ducts. Alphys bought a claw to her progressively pained expression and collapsed her face onto her palms. An involuntary sob escaped her mouth.

_Pathetic._

She was grateful that Mettaton hadn’t attempted to approach her yet. Her dignity was one of the only things she had left that mattered.

Eventually, long after her sniffles had faded to a faint echo, a lonely whir signaled the robot’s single wheel rolling slowly towards her, as to not startle the scientist. Less than a foot away from where she sat, back hunched, shoulders heavy, he stopped.

Then a jet of steam rushed past her head, strong enough to gently rock her forwards. It was warm, sending tingles from her spikes to the tips of her toes, but not hot enough to burn or hurt and the pressure was harmlessly distributed well over her back. Her round glasses misted over not for the first time that day.

Out of the steam came two warm hands, attached to a pair of grey, extendable arms, which reached over heedfully from behind her back and across her torso in an all-encompassing hug. A face, humanoid, malleable and perfectly symmetrical if not for the missing panel over his right eye, pushed itself comfortingly to her shoulder, jet black synthetic hair tickling her neck. Alphys found herself leaning against her friend’s core, wordlessly, tiredly asking him to stay. Just for now.

The scientist’s facade broke. She turned her gaze away from the path ahead.

The two stayed like that for a while. He held her and they both mourned. 

_”I’m sorry, darling.:_

Alphys snapped her eyes open just as Mettaton’s arms tightened around her a split second before he stood and flung her away --

Her remote was gone, in his hands, not hers anymore. 

Mettaton smiled faintly at her, small and sad. Her expression, so betrayed, hurt, scared, still streaked with barely-dried tears, broke his heart, but he knew it would pass. It had to. 

She landed a good few ways away, almost into the next corridor, well beyond the reach of any lasers that watched idly from the dark, waiting for his command. The fall was rough but he knew she was tougher than that.

He nodded his resolve down pat and turned around, resigning himself to his fate. He pressed the button.

And of course, his timing was perfectly calculated.

Red eyes met his from the halfway mark down the bridge, their owner caught perfectly in the middle of the field of blue lasers, and Mettaton’s smile instantly turned biting cold. He couldn’t lie; he was also a bit smug. 

The cyan beams of light matched the already blue tinged walls of the Core, bathing all three in one solid, overpowering hue -- a monotone scene Mettaton was prepared to see to the end. 

Alphys shouted. Mettaton didn’t answer. A buzz and a sizzle told him she tried to walk into the fray. 

“No need to be so brave, darling,” he called, calm voice betraying none of the giddy anticipation he felt inside. He was finally going to repay the scientist for all she had done for him. “Just go.”

He could turn off this body, stop any of the hydraulic pumps from activating far better than Alphys’ organic muscles can stop themselves from moving. She would get exhausted, move and get hurt. He couldn’t have that. 

The Core’s emergency generators could only power this many blasters for only so long. From what the recordings told them, after It started the human would only be able to stand so long without attacking something. It would have to move soon, tempted to attack the robot. It had to. 

Meanwhile, Alphys was being stubborn. 

She fluttered about behind him just over the hum of machinery, stepping forward and backwards, muttering about danger, oh no, _what do I do?_ ’s. She was slowly but surely working up the energy she was known for. She wasn’t leaving. 

Alphys flipped open her cellphone and frantically started texting.

\--

Sans found himself in the castle, alone, whirling his head back and forth to make sure that no shadowed demons were hiding in the darkened corners and behind pillars. 

His thin cotton slippers didn’t do much to muffle his steps, but he halted just at the foot of the stairs, voice dying as soon as it started, and nobody seemed to have noticed his being there. If he had ever parted his jaw in the first place, he would’ve snapped it shut. 

So the kid had met him already. Damn; how in the word did they get here so fast? No doubt they were going to have questions later -- questions that would slow things down, postpone the process, make everything just that much more painful. And this time, Sans had a feeling (an unhappy one at that, that pooled at the pit of his metaphorical stomach (in truth, somewhere at the lower half of his thoracic vertebrae) and pulled his mood down) he wouldn’t be able to stay quiet.

“Ah… Um, well.”

Even from a distance Sans could see the human’s face, however pale in sickness, furrowed upwards in innocent worry. Everything about them screamed hope and obliviousness, which the skeleton couldn’t help but think was just a bit cruel. After all, they knew. They knew their hope was lost. The dullness in their eyes told him that much.

And yet he also understood their need to hear it from another’s mouth.

The silence stretched on within the cool, dry air of the basement. He couldn’t see anything well, never mind the King’s face while he was turned away from him, but the skeleton had a feeling Asgore was fumbling in the dark for an answer. None came forth. And with every second there was a distinct lack of tactful words, Chara’s face started to fall. 

Sans took pity. Exhaling silently, he made to place his hands where his pockets would’ve been should he still had been wearing his jacket, and had them fall awkwardly before begrudgingly placing them in his lab coat pockets instead. He cleared the last of the steps and walked out into the light.

He took a breath, about to make his presence known as casually as he could with a ‘heya’. In the end, he didn’t even need to bother -- his phone broke the ice for him.

Asgore grabbed at the subject of his entrance like a lifeline. And by that meaning he said nothing (he appeared to not be able to at the moment, opening and closing his mouth nervously still) and pivoting rigidly on his heels around. 

“ah -- don’t mind me,” Sans assured, mock-calmly. That seemed to break the King from his stupor.

“Sans,” he greeted. “I would offer you some tea but rather… it’s not time for that, is it?” Safely away from the human, Asgore’s expression twitched, minute facial muscles tensing and relaxing in a desperate attempt at asking for help. The Monster King was many things -- knowing how to break sensitive information to another was not one of them. 

In another time, in another place, Sans might’ve even found it humourous. Not now.

“no time,” he shrugged, foregoing the secretive approach immediately. “they’ve reached the core already. that’s way faster than we anticipated.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So long-time readers would have noticed that when I started, I updated every five days, then every week, now it seemed I'm slipping to a pattern of ten. Rest assured, it's not a matter of losing interest in only this particular story.  
> This chapter could've gone on longer but it's been nine days and it's more than 3000 words already so I decided not to keep you waiting longer than necessary.  
> \--  
> Coolneo123, THANK THE LOWD. No, seriously after reading that I literally fell back on my bed in relief, haha.
> 
> Linkthetoa, personally, Asgore's dialogue at the end of a Genocide run came into mind -- when he mistakes you for a Monster despite it being heavily implied that you are neither Monster nor Human at that point. But, I see your point and I updated the chapter to change the sentence. 
> 
> goodygoody19, no not at all. 
> 
> Barewheels, yup! Ha ha, good to know that's come through clearly. Though, a slight correction from your interpretation, it's not that Frisk is from the future, but Chara is from the past. Like, from the-time-of-the-villages past. And also the same time frame with cowboys. (but those're in America and this is somewhere in the UK, but that's another story entirely that I'm going to update soon I promise).

**Author's Note:**

> Abandoned. Thank you for being here ya'll. Afraid to say I just lost interest :’j


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